


A mirror, darkly

by applecup



Series: As if through a looking-glass [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, What am I doing, how did this happen, long haul - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:26:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 80,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8979649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecup/pseuds/applecup
Summary: Eirnhaya Illte is an unambitious junior Lieutenant, stationed on a backwater planet where the two leading causes of death are boredom and terrorism. Her tedium is broken only by the demands on her time of the manipulative and ambitious Darth Baras - and of his newest apprentice, one Malavai Quinn...





	1. Chapter 1

Second Lieutenant Eirnhaya Illte hated Balmorra.

Not that the planet itself was hateable; it was cooler than Kaas had been, not to mention endlessly less wet, two strikes which had immediately earned it Eirn's favour. The scenery \- well, the parts of it that the Republic hadn't made good efforts to blow up - was even rather gorgeous; in her first months here, Eirn had ended up volunteering for a remote patrol (a ploy, not that she'd admitted it, to keep herself away from the then-commandant, a red Sith with strongly traditionalist feelings on freaks and aberrations) and ended up retracing her steps on a free afternoon simply to enjoy a sunset.

It was the people that managed to ruin it, and not just the Republic. Balmorra was a hole - it was punishment duty, it was where one ended up if one were an embarrassment or a liability or failure that the Empire could not afford to execute but had no desire, equally, to trust with any role that _mattered_.

Eirn was probably the first, hopefully not the second, and tried her best to avoid the third. Red Sith who were blind to the Force were rare, vanishingly so, and not simply because of the tendency of blind Sith infants to comprise the entirety of the Sith infant mortality statistics. Eirn was a second generation blind Sith, not just a rarity but a further rarity amongst _those_ ; her mother was _Sith_ -Sith, and it seemed like her sister would end up going to Korriban, too, but her father had a past in the Reclamation Service and a present teaching history at one of Ziost's university campuses. 

At the present time, though, her attention was all on the man in front of her - Corporal Jillins, a well-meaning but slightly ineffectual man who'd been bravely volunteered by his unit to hand her a report that stated they'd lost track of a single woman who needed keeping an eye on - a Jedi, yes, but one lone woman all the same. Jillins was adamant that the blame could be laid entirely at the feet of the resistance, but it was a setback that had happened on his watch, and well-

'And how is that supposed to help me, Jillins?!' she snapped - resisting the urge to throw the offending datapad at the man, but not by much. 'If I was any other officer, you'd be the first in line to be taken out to the wall and shot! Get back out there,' she added, fiercely, 'And don't contact me again until you've found her!'

Not that it was really Jillins's fault; the resistance had been getting bolder as supplies that absolutely weren't from the Republic had been trickling in, and Jedi were a problem unto themselves. Eirn had overheard more than one of his unit grumbling that tracking Jedi should have been a _Sith_ 's job; while she didn't disagree, necessarily, she equally wasn't convinced it hadn't been aimed at _her_.

'Yessir! Of course sir!'

Jillins fled, apparently valuing his hide more than his dignity, and - not for the first time that day - Eirn wished quite fervently that the Sobrik cantinas weren't quite so far from her offices. When her building door's buzzer sounded again, Eirn almost swore - as if she didn't have enough to deal with - and paused abruptly as she glanced at the security monitor on her desk.

_Oh, Emperor, the_ Sith _is here._

Eirn just rearranged her expression into as docile as she could manage, and prayed this Sith would leave without too much trouble. That prayer was promptly buried beneath as many layers of polite deference as she could scrounge up - a lifetime of living among Sith, while never truly _being_ one, had taught her many sharp, harsh lessons about clouding one's resentment of one's betters.

'My lord,' she greeted him, offering the Sith a bow, once he'd entered. 'Welcome to Balmorra. I am Second Lieutenant Eirnhaya Illte, your liaison onworld.'

He didn't even have the good grace to be a _Sith_ -Sith, though Eirn was never sure if she hated them more or less for that. He was a human man \- a little older than her, perhaps, but not by much; pale skin, dark hair, high cheekbones, and eyes that had been bleached bright yellow by the Force. When he looked at her, Eirn could have sworn she could _feel_ him picking her apart, and it took every lesson learned about Sith tempers not to stare back defiantly.

( _Malavai Quinn_ , according to the scant information Baras had forwarded. He didn't even have the decency to come from a Sith family - though those, in Eirn's experience, were usually the worst when it came to treating her like a _freak_.)

'Lieutenant Illte,' the Sith mused. 'Darth Baras has spoken highly of you. You should know that I expect great things.'

_So, no pressure. Thanks for nothing, old man._

'I will hope to meet your expectations, my Lord. Lord Baras will be briefing you personally,' she added, 'But has instructed me to bring you up to speed with events here on Balmorra.'

Events which she had no problem imagining that this Sith, like all others, did not care about in the slightest - at least, not as far as it didn't impact whatever it was he'd been sent here to accomplish. She didn't know the intricacies of Baras's assignment, and didn't care to; she'd quickly worked out that Baras was the kind of Sith who preferred his Imperials to be silent and subservient, and that the Sith in Baras's employ were rarely any different.

(He had a Twi'lek, she noticed; skulking behind him, her expression clearly one of irritation and resentment. She wore a slave collar, but didn't carry herself with the normal broken deference of slaves. If anything, her defiant, sulky glare spoke of recent captivity, and the lingering desire to acquaint this Sith with his innards)

'Of course, Lieutenant,' he replied, glancing around her office once more, before returning his gaze to her - and that distinct feeling of being picked apart, like a frog on a dissection table. 'Please do so. I would rather operate with a full understanding of the board and its pieces.'

Which came as a surprise, and would only be the first of many.

-

It was several days before she heard from Quinn again, and Eirn had started to wonder if he'd fallen foul of the resistance - or the Republic, or simply into a ditch. When her holo buzzed, she was eating her evening meal at her desk, between keeping an eye on Baras's other pet projects and half listening to a broadcast of _Adas ŷ Yshaar_ from the Kaas City Opera House. As soon as she noticed the call though, the opera was muted, and the food \- after a moment - placed to one side.

' _Lieutenant Illte. I hope I'm not disturbing you._ '

It took her a moment to recognise him, under all his armour - he'd just worn a set of simple robes, before, and she'd - not _entirely_ ignorantly - half expected him to do the same in the field. There were plenty of Sith who thought nothing of wandering into battle wearing naught but a bathrobe; Eirn wasn't even certain her mother _owned_ a set of armour. Not that her archaeological digs tended to be militarily important sites, but that didn't stop Jedi turning up at them with worrying frequency.

'My lord. It's good to hear from you again.' She paused, for a moment, before focusing up on the call - and on Quinn's location, shown triangulated in real time on her terminal display. 'Should I take it that you have control of the satellite tower?'

' _And am in position for the detonation. It's just a pity we can't take this for our own use. The location is excellent._ '

Eirn didn't understand why the detonation had been left in her hands; surely Quinn had been capable of setting a remote detonator himself, but orders were orders.

'Of course, my lord. While I set the detonation,' she added, 'Darth Baras wished to speak with you, as a matter of urgency. Please allow me to connect you.'

Baras, despite the late hour, was immediately available, and Eirn was more than happy to bow out of the conversation. The less she knew of whatever Baras was up to, the less she was likely to get sucked into further insane scheming. 

_It's almost a pity_ , she mused - taking another mouthful of her meal, as she scrolled through the new instructions Baras had sent over. _Quinn is wasted on him. Then again, so am I._

The thought evaporated, though, when her holo buzzed again - Baras, of course - ' _Lieutenant. My apprentice requires those files on Ensign Durmat._ ' - and gone just as quickly, replaced by his apprentice.

'My lord. Lord Baras has-'

'- _requested you forward me some information, yes, Lieutenant. Is there anything else I should be aware of?_ '

'Only that the investigator Lord Baras has me tracking has also been sniffing around, my lord, and appears to have taken an interest in the Ensign. I will notify you as soon as I learn anything further.'

' _Thank you, Lieutenant. I will be in touch._ '

Remarkably polite, especially for a Sith, and Eirn couldn't help but be put on her guard because of it.

'May the Force serve you well, my lord.'

-

When Quinn finally made it back to her offices in person, it was several days later again - long enough that Baras had even made a tetchy call to her office demanding to know what was going on, and only accepted her answer after examining her call logs for himself. Eirn had almost made a sarcastic offer to go out looking for Quinn, herself, though she knew with Baras, nothing pleasant ever came from sarcasm. Besides which, she already had enough to do, between Baras's whims and her normal duties to the Empire. Despite the low priority that the Empire apparently assigned this location, the locals felt rather differently - and the Republic , of course, could always be counted on to make life needlessly difficult.

Still, Baras's pet was still in one piece, even if his armour had a few new dings. His Twi'lek seemed to be doing better for herself, too; wore a new armoured chest piece, even if the collar could still be seen at the back of her neck.

'Welcome back to Sobrik, my lord,' she offered - along with the very smallest of bows. 'And congratulations on the success of your missions.'

(The sulky Twi'lek made a show of dramatically rolling her eyes, but said absolutely nothing)

'I came here, Lieutenant,' he replied, dryly, 'To do a job.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, as quickly as she could. 'Lord Baras has already been in touch, and he appears pleased with your progress. He is waiting to brief you,' she added, 'Over my secure holo connection.'

'But...?' Quinn prompted, apparently expecting some caveat.

'But nothing, my lord. The secure holo is- in the barracks,' she added, rather awkwardly - gesturing towards what passed for her living space. It was remarkably impersonal, but still- _hers_ , technically. Inviting the Sith into it carried all sorts of unpleasant implications, even if there was nothing more incriminating in there than an empty laundry hamper. 'It's all yours, of course, my lord.'

She started to add something more, and decided against it; there was nothing good that could come out of Sith being in her personal space, and she _knew_ it.

Quinn looked more than a little bemused at the arrangement - or perhaps he just found her discomfort entertaining, Eirn couldn't tell. He didn't comment, though - just responded with a 'Thank you, Lieutenant,' before turning to go.

(Eirn, once he and his sulky Twi'lek had gone, just collapsed into her chair dramatically, before burying her face in a pile of flimsi prints and attempting not to scream)

-

There was no time to wallow in her despair, though; Baras was nothing if not a demanding taskmaster, and the Sith who served under him were no different. 

'Your final target,' she began, handing Quinn a datapad with the information for his mission, 'Is inside the Balmorran Arms factory. As the name suggests,' she added, 'It's a weapons manufacturing plant, which has been out of commission since the Republic supposedly retreated. It's also,' she said, 'A well-defended, nigh-impenetrable fortress.'

The Twi'lek, slouching around behind her master, pointedly rolled her eyes. 

'In my experience, Lieutenant,' Quinn mused, studying the datapad, 'There is no such thing as _impenetrable_. Particularly when one is dealing with the Republic.'

'I will defer to your expertise on that matter, my lord,' Eirn replied, attempting not to take the bait. 'Regardless, you will be facing some of the most hardened Republic troops on Balmorra. While I can't say I'll miss _them_ , I'd rather you came back intact.' Mostly because she wasn't certain that Baras wouldn't take it out on _her_ if he didn't.

Quinn finally looked back to _her_ at that, a sort of mild bemusement playing across his features. 'Don't tell me you're worried about me, Lieutenant.'

'Not for myself, my lord,' Eirn replied, far too smoothly, 'But the Empire would be much poorer without you.'

His Twi'lek, still skulking behind him, dramatically mimed banging her head on the wall.

'Then I shall have to ensure I make it back in one piece. For the Empire,' Quinn finished, and Eirn was quite certain he was making fun of her.

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, dropping that topic as quickly as she could. 'As I was saying,' she added, 'on top of the defences and Republic troops, my men have also reported the Jedi I'm tracking for Lord Baras has been sniffing around. I'm keeping a close eye on her, and if it looks like she'll be a problem-'

'-Let me know _immediately_ , Lieutenant.'

'Of course, my lord. May the Force serve you well.'

-

Keeping half an eye on Quinn and his Twi'lek, and the other half on the troublemaking Jedi that Baras was so worried about, was more than enough to keep Eirn out of trouble. Not having access to the Arms Factory's systems was frustrating, but there wasn't much to be done about that - not without removing the Republic, first, and they were as stubborn as a Sith mother-in-law.

Her holo buzzing, though, promised nothing good - particularly when she checked the caller id.

'Jillins,' she said, as she accepted the call, 'If you've lost her again, I will personally mail your balls to Lord Baras.'

' _Nothing of the sort, sir. It's just, that. She's been tailing that Sith Lord you've been working with. I've got ears on her, and- you're gonna want to hear this. Patching you in-'_

' _...didn't you attempt to recruit them?_ ' Quinn, unmistakeably - at least, now that she knew what he sounded like from under several centimetres of plasteel.

' _I followed Lord Baras's orders to the letter, my lord. The life of a spy is not an easy one, and I've been forced to do things against the Empire that have sickened me._ ' Some Pub she didn't recognise. His target here, presumably \- and that of the Jedi who'd been stalking around, too. _Shit_.

' _Do you have any last requests?_ ' Quinn, again - yep, Baras seemed to be cleaning house.

Shit. Shit shit shit. 'Where is she now, Jillins?'

' _Still in the Factory, eavesdropping on your Sith, sir. If we move in now, we'll have the element of surprise-_ '

'No,' Eirn replied, 'If she's a Jedi, then any Imperial soldiers we send in are dead. No offence, Jillins. Keep your distance, and let me know the moment she makes a move.'

' _But-_ '

'That's an _order_ , Corporal. Keep your eyes on her, but do _not_ engage.'

' _...I hope you know what you're doing, sir._ '

_So do I, Jillins_ , Eirn mused to herself, _so do I._

She didn't reply to that, though - just opened up a new channel, requesting hits on the Republic's known transport hubs near the Arms Factory - and then, once she'd done that, to Quinn.

'My lord. Please forgive my abruptness, but the situation is urgent. The Jedi investigator has been tailing you through the factory, and has recorded your meeting. I've got men on her, but- they're good soldiers, my lord, but she's a _Jedi_.'

' _I see,_ ' Quinn began - remarkably calm, adding, ' _Where is she now? I will deal with her,_ next _._ '

'Trying to leave Balmorra, my lord. Her main route off-world has been dealt with,' Eirn replied, watching as the sullen confirmation popped up on her screens, 'But the Jedi herself is-'

A text update appeared from Jillins: _Jedi stolen speedr, heading ur way. Will tail._

'-Heading to Sobrik, my lord,' Eirn finished, sighing. 

' _One woman, against an entire city?_ ' 

'Jedi are nothing if not arrogant, my lord. I'll do everything I can to delay her, but your assistance would really be appreciated.'

-

Eirn hadn't expected to be able to see Quinn at work in person - even if it was from the landing control room of the spaceport's docking centre, overlooking the locked-down bay that the Jedi had been funnelled to. Even if she'd gotten her hands on the ship docked here, it was missing half its hyperdrive and had watch notices on its registration a mile long - she'd not have made it out of the system, not without more than just the Force on her side.

Still, it was no small amount of relief to see that Quinn had caught up with her - and had taken her apart, not quite literally but enough that Eirn could approach without running a very real risk of a Jedi lightsaber to the gut.

'Even if I die, here and now,' the Jedi was retorting - exhausted, bloodied, _spent_ and still refusing to submit - 'My findings have been transmitted to the Jedi Council. Your Master's spies will be eliminated, and then you and he will be next. You can count on that much, Sith.'

Quinn snarled; kept his saber levelled at the woman, but refrained from executing her _just_ yet.

'Lieutenant,' he managed, on spotting Eirn, 'Excellent timing. Have this _woman_ ,' he said, not taking any pains to hide the acid in his tone, 'Taken into custody, and transported to Lord Baras for interrogation. We can at least salvage _something_ from this mess.'

'Right away, my lord,' Eirn replied, not missing a beat - before adding, 'Though, my lord...'

He glared at her, but kept his ire for the Jedi - _mostly_. 'What is it, Lieutenant?'

'Forgive an impertinence, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'But I feel compelled to inform you that I've had the Jedi under surveillance since she arrived on Balmorra, and while she did attempt to make a transmission offworld during her assault on Sobrik- _attempt_ is the operative word.'

It took Quinn a moment - and the Jedi, too, for that matter, though the Sith got there first.

'So what you're saying, Lieutenant,' he said, slowly - smirking a little to himself, as he did so, 'Is that the Jedi Council, in fact, know nothing.'

'Precisely, my lord,' Eirn replied, offering a small bow. 'Though I can't take all the credit. My team all played their part.'

(Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Quinn's Twi'lek rolling her eyes - and the Jedi making some kind of disgusted face, but she ignored them both.)

-

'Tell me, Apprentice. How have you found the Lieutenant?'

Eirn couldn't help but twitch a little at that question; she disliked being discussed as though she wasn't present at the best of times - never mind by a pair of human Sith. It was a dislike she kept nestled beneath layers of professionalism and duty, but one which festered all the same.

'Exceptionally helpful, my lord. She has been a pleasure to work with.'

Baras, light-years away but just as insufferable as he was in person, chuckled darkly to himself. 'I see. Lieutenant?'

'My Lord?' Eirn replied, snapping back to full attention.

'As you have managed to not just complete your tasks but also impress my apprentice, I will authorise your promotion to full Lieutenant, effective immediately.'

A carrot Baras had been dangling over her for a while; Balmorra was not a place people went to advance their career, and certainly wasn't one that they earned promotions for - not without serving up the planet bow-tied on a platter. Besides which, junior-grade Lieutenant at her age was a respectable rank, especially for a _freak_. Full Lieutenant came with nice bonuses, but wasn't something Eirn had expected - and wasn't certain, at that, that it wouldn't come with its own price tag, too.

'My affairs on Balmorra are also, with this turn of events, at an end,' he continued. 'As such, you are released from my service here. Given the successful closure of your assignment,' he added, 'I am also transmitting an executive order, allowing you to station next wherever you wish.'

'Thank you, my lord,' she replied - _genuinely_ thankful, as she offered him a bow.

Eirn wasn't delusional enough to think that her service to _Baras_ was at an end; she still wore an Imperial uniform, after all, and was certain that Baras was the type to manage to extract service from beyond the grave, should the urge take him. Still, it meant getting off Balmorra - away from a front which managed to be both tedious and life-threatening in the same instant, even if it _did_ have pretty sunsets.

(' _As for you, my apprentice_ ,' Baras began, and Eirn was more than happy to leave the Sith to it)

-

'Congratulations on your promotion, Lieutenant. It would seem to be well-earned.' Quinn not only didn't bail immediately on Baras's ending the conversation, but actually bothered to address _her_ , afterward.

Surprise number- fifteen? Sixteen? Eirn supposed she probably should have stopped counting them by now, especially since this Sith would be leaving to wherever Baras needed him next. For a moment, she almost felt slightly sympathetic towards the man - being jerked from one paranoid scheme to the next had to be almost as bad as dumped in a dead-end nowhere for years on end.

'Thank you, my lord,' she just replied, though - as deferential as she could make herself. She was on the home stretch, now - no point screwing it up by pissing off Baras's apprentice. 'It's been my honour to serve.'

His sulky Twi'lek was scuffing her heels on Eirn's floor, and made a puking gesture with her fingers - out of sight of her owner, but right in Eirn's line of sight. 

'Have you considered where you'll go, next?' he added, apparently oblivious to his subordinate's theatrics.

'I... hadn't, my lord,' she admitted. The idea that she could _leave_ this backwater hadn't begun to sink in; Eirn had resolved early on in this assignment that there was no point in daydreaming about getting a post where the two leading causes of death weren't boredom and terrorists. For all that Baras had dangled the idea as a carrot for good behaviour, she'd never actually expected him to follow through; he was, after all, Sith. 'Though as long as I can be of service to the Empire, I will go anywhere I am needed.'

(She wondered, for a moment, why Quinn was even asking; wondered, obscenely, if he was trying to drop some hint - or fish for information)

'Would that more _Sith_ had that attitude,' Quinn muttered, and Eirn wasn't certain if she should take that personally, or not.

'Vette,' Quinn added, sharply - addressing his Twi'lek, apparently, 'What are you playing at?'

'Nothin',' Vette replied, extremely quickly, 'Your mighty Sithiness. We done here?'

Eirn didn't need the Force to see the resentment that was written all over the girl's tone and posture; Vette disliked her Sith immensely, and Eirn had to wonder what he'd done to earn it. He'd certainly been nothing but polite towards _her_ , an unusual enough attribute in Sith.

'We are,' he replied, irritably - adding, to Eirn, 'Congratulations again, Lieutenant. May the Force ever serve you well.'

-

With that, he and his grumpy shadow were gone - leaving Eirn alone, not for the first time, with her thoughts and her datapads. The latter, though, were mostly tidied up -wiped, disposed of, tucked away, as was appropriate to their contents; the former, meanwhile, were rifled through and chewed over.

_Anywhere in the Empire._

A whole galaxy of plum appointments, some more suited to unambitious newly-promoted Lieutenants than others, and Eirn found herself pondering just how far she'd be able to push that luck. How obscure a posting she'd have to find in order to slacken Baras's leash. How obscure a posting his order would, in reality, allow for.

_A nice quiet desk job back home. An outreach post on Csilla. A transfer to the Diplomatic Service. Diplomats need field officers too, right? See the galaxy,_ before _we send in the shock troopers. Or maybe a transfer to the Reclamation Service? It'd make Dad proud. History's not really my strong suit, though..._

Wherever she ended up, Eirn wasn't stupid enough to think she was free of Baras. She might not truly be Sith herself, but she'd still been raised in a Sith household, in a Sith family. Not all Sith were created quite like Baras - but then, not all Sith were in spitting distance of the Dark Council.

_Any posting in the galaxy. Anything at all._

Or she could call his bluff. Because calling the bluff of a powerful, influential, Sith, had never once in the history of the Empire, ended badly. Particularly not for a poorly-bred heretic. Right?

-

Finding Quinn's ship wasn't difficult; it had been docked in the same place for some time, after all, and it would take time for his pre-flight checks to take place. Besides which, the man apparently still had business in Sobrik - when she paged him, more than a little nervously, he not only responded immediately, but actually invited her to speak in person. He was taking a meal in one of Sobrik's better eateries, which she wasn't sure how she felt about, in truth. She'd rather have avoided making a scene in public, especially when there were so many unknowns at play, but was loathe to refuse the invitation of a Sith - especially one who she was petitioning for a job.

'My Lord. Please forgive my intrusion. As I said on the holo, I was- hoping to speak to you.'

'Of course, Lieutenant. Sit down,' he added, gesturing at one of the empty chairs at his table. 'How can I be of assistance?'

(Vette just watched her, all the while - methodically chewing something unidentifiable, but which smelled a lot like fried bormu steak)

Eirn hadn't planned on sitting, but took a seat anyway; she stuck out less, and refusing would have been- well, _rude_. ( _What the hell_ , part of her wondered, _kind of question is that for a_ Sith _to ask?_ )

'Actually,' Eirn started, swallowing back as much of her nervousness as she could, 'I- wanted to offer you my services, my lord.'

'Your services, Lieutenant?' Quinn replied, amusement playing in his tone - and expression.

It was only when he phrased it like that - when he fixed her with an analytical stare, and his Twi'lek nearly choked on her meal, that Eirn realised just what she'd said.

'I- nothing like _that_ , my lord,' Eirn started, trying to resist the urge to cringe, and not entirely succeeding.

'Like what, Lieutenant?' Quinn replied, still visibly amused.

(Even Vette was smirking to herself at Eirn's discomfort, and Eirn found herself rapidly revising this plan - wondered, for several long moments, about how to go about bailing from it entirely, preferably while retaining what passed, among Imperials, for dignity)

'My lord,' Eirn managed, eventually - deciding to simply abandon that misstep, and pray he didn't demand elaboration, 'You are already aware I have leave to choose my next assignment. You have also already seen a sample of my work. In addition to providing logistical support, I am a certified pilot, and a fully qualified field medic, and I can of course provide reference from my colleagues onworld. I am capable of providing support to your cause on and off the battlefield. All I ask is a chance to prove myself.'

Eirn was acutely aware, as she spoke, that she was also rather green; there were plenty of better qualified candidates- here on Balmorra, never mind in the Empire at large, and most of _them_ didn't also have her questionable professional pedigree. Still, if he suspected anything, he remained silent on the matter.

_Worst case scenario, he says no and I can put in for a post on Csilla or Hutta or some other remote hole so we'll never have to see each other again. Probably._

'Very well, Lieutenant,' he replied, after a long moment. 'Consider yourself on probation. We depart in three hours. Docking bay 5-Cresh. Don't be late.'

'Thank you, my lord. You will not regret this, I swear.'


	2. Chapter 2

Three hours was not a lot of time to pack away her things, even if most of it was just a case of transferring items from one form of storage to another. Uniforms, weaponry - personal items, trinkets and civilian clothing and field gear, all stashed into transport crates and argued over with the spaceport authority. At least Quinn's factotum droid was expecting her, even if it wasn't much help beyond directing her to the crew quarters, and getting under her feet while she was stacking the last of her crates in the cargo bay.

His ship, though, almost still had that new ship smell; Eirn was fairly certain that if she looked hard enough, she could probably find protective plastifilm still over some of the chrome fittings. Something to look out for while she was familiarising herself with the layout, perhaps - not that Quinn's ship was particularly large.

'Lieutenant, good, you're here. You're ready for departure, I hope?'

Quinn appeared before the three hour window was up - some time later than she'd expected him, but whatever business he and Vette had been conducting in Sobrik had clearly come to its conclusion.

'My lord,' she just replied, offering him a bow - and ignoring Vette's pointedly rolled eyes. 'I am indeed. My reassignment papers are ready for submission, and my gear and belongings are all packed and aboard.'

She'd checked, and re-checked, three times; if she'd left anything behind, it would have to be a welcome gift to whoever inherited her offices. (She'd also requested a commendation for Jillins's file - the closest she was going to be able to manage to an apology for her constant berating of the man, who could hardly be held entirely to blame for the slipperiness of Jedi).

'Good, good.' Quinn was pacing - Eirn could almost have sworn he was slightly _nervous_ , as ridiculous an assessment that seemed to be for any Sith. 'I may be Sith, but this is still a military vessel, and I run a tight ship. I don't expect any less dedication than you give under normal circumstances.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, punctuating her replies with small bows.

In truth, she hadn't expected anything else; Sith existed outside of the rules, but had no trouble expecting their lessers to abide by them. Eirn had never found any peace, philosophically acceptable or otherwise, in the kind of order that the military inflicted on her life - but it was better than the alternatives.

He frowned, adding, 'You will be bunking in the crew quarters, along with Vette. I trust this won't be a problem?'

'None, my lord.' 

A slight overstatement, perhaps, but Eirn had no desire to start this assignment off with a fight - with either Quinn _or_ his Twi'lek. Besides which - most of her snobbery about sleeping arrangements had been beaten out of her during Basic. Going back to sharing sleeping quarters to _anyone_ was a downgrade from Balmorra, but she'd accepted that before even asking Quinn for a job.

(Vette, out of sight of her master, rolled her eyes again - but, for now, said nothing)

'Good,' Quinn repeated, nodding to himself. 'Our next stop will be Nar Shadaa. You said you're a trained pilot?'

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn replied - hesitating, for a moment, before deciding to err on the side of not assuming what he wanted from her.

'Very well. Get a flight plan filed and authorised. I want to depart as soon as we're finished taking on supplies.'

'My lord,' Eirn just acknowledged, offering him a perfunctory bow and not surprised in the slightest when it was ignored entirely.

-

Once they were underway - once the ship could be left to its autopilot, watched over by his apparently multifunctional droid - Eirn headed back towards the cargo bay, fully intending to move what she could to the crew quarters - and perhaps, at that, introduce herself properly to Vette. She hadn't had much chance or reason to while planetside, and was entirely certain that Quinn wasn't the type to bother facilitating introductions to his slave, himself.

There was already a conversation under way in the common area when Eirn left the bridge, though - more of an argument, really, and one Eirn was equally certain that she didn't want to get sucked into.

'So, uh, hey. Your mighty Sithiness. Since we're all done with the whole 'Planet Snoozefest' thing and, you know, I've been making extra efforts on the _good behaviour_ , could we, I don't know, talk about the whole. Collar. Thing. Maybe. Please?'

The look Quinn was giving Vette could be best described as unamused; this clearly wasn't the first time they'd had a _discussion_ on the matter, and Eirn had a sinking feeling she knew how it had gone.

'There's nothing to discuss, Vette. Did you really think,' he added, 'That I didn't notice your antics in the Lieutenant's offices?'

'I was _bored_ ,' Vette protested, as though this was a reasonable response. 'You said you wanted me to be quiet, so I was!'

'You were not-!' Quinn started to argue - getting that far before hitting a wall of facts that disagreed with him. 'I wanted you,' he said, 'to show a little more respect in public! Instead, you insisted on putting on those- ridiculous displays-!'

'No more ridiculous than _you_ ,' Vette grumbled, crossing her arms defiantly.

Quinn was clearly unimpressed at Vette's reply, though - the face he made was proof enough of that by itself. 'That,' he replied, 'Is exactly the kind of disrespect I am talking about. It's bad enough that I have to put up with you the rest of the time-!'

(Eirn was mostly hoping she could stay out of this; it was clearly a touchy subject, and she had no desire to make enemies of anyone on Quinn's payroll - however loosely that was defined. Besides which, she had her own tasks to attend to, not least of which was familiarising herself with the ship - something that was going to be difficult, she reflected, with Quinn and Vette having an argument in the middle of it)

'Then don't put up with me! You know you could just take this thing off and let me out at Nar Shadaa, right?' Vette protested, throwing her arms up in the air. 'No more troublesome alien for you, no more pouty Sith for me, everyone wins!'

'You are too useful,' Quinn replied immediately, 'And know too much about Lord Baras's operations to be allowed to run loose. Besides,' he added, 'Threatening to abscond is hardly instilling me with confidence that you can be trusted not to disappear the moment I turn my back.'

Vette just stared at him for a long, angry moment - and Eirn was half convinced, at that, that this was about to bubble over into violence.

' _Fine_ ,' Vette just snapped, though, turning on her heel and _flouncing_ to the crew quarters.

It was only then that Eirn realised she'd failed miserably at slipping into the cargo bay - that she'd in fact been staring at the entire exchange, something which she was certain wasn't going to endear her to either of its participants.

'Lieutenant?' Quinn, when he turned to address her, was as irritated as he was anything else.

'My lord?' Eirn replied - glancing at him, slightly nervously, and hoping _she_ didn't end up getting the raw end of that argument.

For a moment, he looked like he was going to berate her for something, too - and then the moment passed, and he deflated, even if just a little.

'Do you have any experience in handling- _that_?' he finished, slightly exasperated - gesturing, as he finished, to the space that Vette had recently been occupying.

Eirn could only assume, from that, that he didn't - though it was an observation she kept to herself.

'Not- precisely, my lord,' she replied - some of the stroppier enlisted probably came close, but even they had more freedom than Vette.

'Hm,' Quinn just replied - a quiet, slightly surprised, noise. 'Your family doesn't keep slaves?'

The question just made her wince - its content, and its bluntness. Eirn wasn't entirely stupid - she knew that her mother's family almost certainly _did_ , but- well, there were reasons that they weren't on speaking terms.

'No, my lord,' Eirn just replied, keeping her reaction and her reasons as close to her chest as she could. She wondered, for a moment, if Quinn had even realised what he was saying \- what he was _assuming_ , and what the missing information was telling her about him.

'If I may ask, my lord,' she added, before Quinn could add anything to that thought, 'What- exactly is the issue?'

Quinn just sighed irritably, at that - glowering at her, the same way he'd glowered at Vette, before relenting. 'She's- sloppy,' he replied, 'And undisciplined, and disrespectful, and- Lieutenant,' he added, frowning at her, 'You saw the way she was behaving in your offices. And that display just now-!'

She had; Vette's disdain for the Sith had come through loud and clear, though Eirn was fairly certain that at least some of it had been aimed at her. Quinn, she could only guess, was primarily irritated at the way it reflected poorly on him; Eirn hadn't judged him for it, but she could think of plenty of Sith - _actual_ Sith - who would.

'I- yes, my lord,' she just replied - though there was clearly something else going on here. Most Sith didn't bother giving their slaves decent food, and _certainly_ wouldn't have stood for Vette's recent flounce. That Quinn hadn't resorted to actually _using_ the collar in the face of Vette's tantrum puzzled and surprised her, as much as she was equally grateful that he hadn't - if only for Vette's sake.

'Permission to speak freely, my lord?' she added, after half a moment - watching Quinn cautiously, acutely aware that, for all he'd been polite enough planetside, she was starting to see another side of him that she wasn't sure she liked nearly as much.

Quinn studied her in return, for a long moment - frowning warily to himself, before briefly nodding his assent. 'For now, Lieutenant.'

Which wasn't a very promising reply, but Eirn knew that she still had a lot to prove. 'Without wishing to speak out of turn, my lord... I was raised to treat slaves and servants with the same respect as Imperial citizens. We are all servants of the Emperor, after all,' she added - even if her mother usually sounded more than a little sarcastic when she used that line. 'I know that it's not a- common belief among Sith, my lord,' she added, 'But- loyalty bought with trust is stronger than that secured by fear. In- my experience, my lord.'

_You are rambling, Illte. Shut_ up _, for goodness' sake._

'I do not want to be liked, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, still irritated, 'I want to be _obeyed_.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - wincing again to herself. 'Forgive me, my lord, ' she added, distinctly aware of just how unpopular the sentiment she'd just endorsed was - in the Empire at large, never mind among Sith.

Quinn muttered something inaudible to himself in response to that, but otherwise didn't respond in a way that Eirn could reasonably reply to. 'We're en route to Nar Shadaa?' he added - changing the topic entirely, for which Eirn had to admit she was rather grateful.

'We are, my lord. ETA is-' she paused, checking the chrono. 'Two hours and forty-three minutes.'

'Alright,' Quinn replied, turning that over. 'Let me know when we're due to arrive. I will be in my quarters. You are dismissed,' he added, turning to leave - not even waiting for her _yes, my lord_ before he was gone.

-

Vette was nowhere to be seen in the crew quarters, of course, though it wasn't difficult to work out where she was. One of the bunks - the bottom bunk, closest to the entrance - had its privacy curtain pulled across, a pointed 'go away' if there ever was one.

Eirn left her be, for the time being - glanced over the remaining bunks before claiming one of the top ones for her use - the same wall as Vette's, but against the far wall, rather than above the Twi'lek. Top bunks came with their own drawbacks, but Eirn had always preferred them - habit, more than anything. She claimed the closest locker to it as hers, too - hung her items of uniform up, stashing away as much as she could and resolving to sort through what remained in her crates as soon as Quinn's schedule allowed for it.

That just left her with her other task here, though - as much as Vette seemed determined to ignore her presence entirely. She hesitated, for a long moment - before gently rapping on the frame next to the curtain, a time-honoured method of asking politely for the attention of the bunk's occupant.

'Piss off,' Vette just replied - confirming at least two of Eirn's suspicions in the process.

She decided just to let the Twi'lek be, for now, though. If Vette didn't want to talk, then she had no desire to force her; it was hard to recover from a poor first impression, and Eirn rather suspected that Vette already had a low opinion of her.

-

Landing at Nar Shadaa's spaceport required Eirn's attention, of course - and drew Vette's, at that, the Twi'lek hovering like an excited child as Eirn dealt with the spaceport authority, and only parking herself in the co-pilot's seat after Eirn batted her away for the third time. Quinn showed up too, naturally; Eirn was half-convinced that he was mostly there to find some fault with her, and equally half-convinced he'd find it, too - though if he did, he kept it to himself.

'Back to almost-civilisation,' Vette declared, kicking her heels up on the co-pilot's panel, and not removing them until she saw that Quinn had noticed her.

'Nar Shadaa,' Quinn replied, not attempting to hide his disdain in the slightest, 'Can hardly be called _civilised_ , even in comparison to Balmorra.'

Eirn had to disagree; Balmorra had been plenty civilised, if you excluded the parts occupied by Republic sympathisers. Granted, a fair number of the locals had been more than a little hostile, but the same could be said of any population that had spent too much time around Jedi.

'Just 'cause it ain't _Sithy_ doesn't mean it's not civilised _,_ ' Vette harrumphed, though Quinn had already left to make contact with his lord and master.

Baras was, apparently, continuing to clean house - his man here had cosied up to another Sith, Rathari, who was the Dark Council's man with a plan for Nar Shadaa. Eirn had always disliked Sith politicking intensely, and realised, rather belatedly, that she'd probably gone and inserted herself into rather more of it than she'd ever wanted.

Still, Baras wasn't even trying to pretend this was about the Republic - this _was_ Sith politicking, pure and simple. Dellocon's crime wasn't defection or even being exposed - it was allying himself with someone endlessly less trouble than Baras. It was a thought she kept to herself, but Eirn wondered for a long moment if there wasn't more to this situation than met the eye, and if there was anything to be gained by attempting to speak to Dellocon directly.

If Quinn caught on to any of this - to Baras's politicking, or Eirn's silent insubordination - he didn't remark on it though, even after the call was cut.

'See,' Vette preened, once the call was over, 'Even Darth Paranoid admits this is a fun place to be.'

'Vette,' Quinn just replied, sighing irritably, 'Do _not_ test my patience further.'

Vette harrumphed, but went back to sulking quietly; crossed her arms, and glared defensively at everything around her.

'You're being very quiet, Lieutenant,' Quinn added, glancing at Eirn as though he'd expected some kind of input from her.

Eirn, though, had learned the hard way that Sith - _actual_ Sith - tended to prefer it when their Imperials were silent and subservient, and she did not currently have a death wish. Besides which, she was tired - it had been a long day, and she was rather hoping for a chance for, at the very least, some kind of nap.

'My apologies, my lord,' Eirn just replied - not entirely sure what she was apologising _for_ , but deference towards Sith - especially Sith who were already irritated - was a well-learned survival tactic. 'Orders, my lord?' she added, cautiously.

Something flickered in Quinn's expression, though it was there and gone too quickly to pin it down. 

'Get some rest, Lieutenant. You too, Vette. Ms. Setsyn's business hours don't begin for another twelve hours, and I doubt she'd appreciate a surprise visit at this hour.' 

Further ways in which Quinn was not Baras; Eirn had lost count of the number of times her holo had buzzed at unsociable hours with some clipped demand or another, fresh from the more paranoid halls of Dromund Kaas. If Setsyn was anything like Baras's other myriad minions, she was probably just as used to unsociably timed demands, and for a moment, Eirn wondered if Quinn was putting this off more for his benefit than anyone else's.

'Thank you, my lord,' Eirn just replied, though - refusing to dwell on the motivations of Sith, and resolving simply to take full advantage of the chance for some sleep.

'Whatever,' Vette drolled, shrugging - and ignoring the glower she got from Quinn.

-

Quinn made an excuse and disappeared into his quarters for the night extremely promptly; Eirn had to admit she was a little surprised that he hadn't stuck around even to grab something to eat, but wasn't about to further question him, either. Eirn, though, was hungry as much as she was anything else; investigating the galley turned up a selection of Imperial Army standard issue food substitutes, but nothing to suggest that either Quinn or his Twi'lek had much imagination in the cooking department. Still, she managed to find some noodles and dry sauces, and had spent enough time turning Imperial food substitutes into edible meals that this was not a challenge.

What she didn't expect to find was Vette, who slunk into the ship's tiny galley as though she hoped Eirn hadn't spotted her, and subsequently refused to budge when she noticed that Eirn _had_.

'You're cookin'.' Vette also apparently had a talent for stating the obvious, though Eirn doubted it was something that Quinn valued her for. 'You know we got a droid for that, right?'

'I know,' Eirn replied - the thing had gotten under her feet until she'd banished it entirely. 'But I prefer my own cooking. Do you want some noodles?' she added, levelling a glance at Vette.

'...Sure,' Vette relented, though she stayed to inspect the process anyway - watched like a suspicious blue hawk as Eirn attempted to turn MRE noodles into something with flavour and appeal.

'So... what am I s'posed to call you?' Vette added, glancing at Eirn slightly awkwardly. 'I mean, it's not like Lord Grumpyguts bothered to introduce us.'

Vette's own rather pointed _Piss off_ hadn't exactly helped, either, though Eirn kept that thought to herself.

'You're probably _supposed_ to call me by my rank,' she mused, after a moment, 'But my name will be fine. It's Eirnhaya,' she added - probably unnecessarily, but there was nothing to lose by being friendly. She hoped.

'That's kind of a mouthful,' Vette mused to herself, after a moment. 'What about _Eir_?'

'Eir _n_ ,' Eirn corrected, sighing. Not that anyone ever called her this, but she could live in hope.

' _Eir_ ,' Vette repeated, latching onto it like a child with a new toy, and grinning to herself as Eirn sighed again. 'I'm Vette,' she added, needlessly. 'Dunno if our glorious lord and master bothered to tell you, but just so you know - I am on strike when it comes to domestic. You want laundry or- whatever, go talk to the droid.'

'Noted,' Eirn replied, mildly bemused at Vette's uptick in mood - and her spine, for that matter. 'So what _do_ you do?' she added, a little warily.

'I shoot people that need shooting,' Vette replied, miming the action with her fingers, 'And slice things that need slicing. If Darth Moleface ever started treatin' me like a _person_ ,' she added, 'I might even do more than that.'

'Is he really that bad?' Eirn asked - regretting the words as soon as she said them, for an endless number of reasons.

'You saw him earlier,' Vette harrumphed, pulling a face. 'Just 'cause he was suckin' up to you on Planet Boring doesn't mean he's not an asshole the rest of the time.'

Eirn had to admit that she was starting to wonder if she'd judged Quinn a little quickly, but- well, by his own admission, she was _on probation_. If he really was that bad, she could always find some excuse to be let go; of course, she mused, wincing a little as she did so, if he was really _that_ bad - it would be more likely that she wouldn't get the chance to.

'What's your deal, anyway?' Vette added, poking at _her_ , at that. 'Most Imps won't give me time of day, an' you're not just an Imp but a... _Sithy_ Imp.'

Which just made Eirn grimace, true as it was. 'Can't I want to try and get along with you?'

'You're a Sith,' Vette retorted immediately - and not _entirely_ inaccurately.

'I'm an Imperial,' Eirn corrected; proof, more than her accent, that Vette either was from outside the Empire, or didn't care. Or both - though Eirn supposed it didn't make much difference.

'Same difference,' Vette just replied, shrugging. 'To me,' she added, at Eirn's attempt to protest otherwise.

'My deal,' Eirn said, making a show of conceding defeat, 'Is that we're both here to serve Lord Quinn, and I would like to get along with the person I'm sharing sleeping quarters with.'

Which, if the look on Vette's face was anything to go by, was entirely disbelieved, though the noodles got in the way of an immediate retort.

'Alright,' Vette replied, after a moment, 'don't tell me. Be like that,' she added, making a show of an exasperated sigh. 'Your noodles are better than the droid's, though, I'll give you that. Hey,' she added, perking up a little, 'You gonna cook all the time?'

' _No_ ,' Eirn replied, sighing to herself. She'd gone and set an impossible standard, hadn't she? 'Though if you agree to split the cooking, I might do it more often.'

'I told you,' Vette replied, 'I don't _do_ domestic. I can do the eating part, though,' she added - grinning, along with everything else.

'In that case,' Eirn just said, 'Don't get used to it.'

-

Eirnhaya had never been a morning person, and her first pseudo-morning as Quinn's minion instead of Baras's was no exception. She'd slept poorly - a side effect of an unfamiliar bed, and the noise that came with being aboard a spaceship - even one at rest. Not that Quinn's vessel was particularly noisy - but it was still more than Eirn was used to, and that was enough to disrupt her sleep, for now.

She was standing in the galley squinting at the Imperial-army-issue instant caf when Quinn appeared, seemingly out of nowhere - greeting her with an altogether too energetic, 'Good morning, Lieutenant.'

He scared the hell out of her, of course - Eirn _felt_ herself jump what felt like several centimetres, and instantly hated herself for being so easily rattled.

'My apologies, Lieutenant,' he added - far too smoothly to be even a fraction as tired as she was, at least in her estimation. 'I did not intend to startle you.'

'I- it's- fine, my lord,' Eirn started, groping around for words and hating herself more every second. 'Good morning, my lord,' she added, uncertainly - trying not to yawn, and barely succeeding. 'I was- making caf,' she added, probably unnecessarily. 'Would you- like some, my lord?'

Which, she mused to herself, was probably at least two times too many to have said _my lord_ this early in the day, but she was too tired to care too much - besides which, she finally realised, Quinn was _staring_.

'My lord,' she started to add, 'is- something wrong?'

'No,' Quinn started, far too quickly, 'I- hadn't realised how long your hair was. I- you look- very different with it down, Lieutenant.'

The moment he said that, Eirn wanted to grab at her hair and pull it up into an approximation of its usual Imperial-army-approved bun; she'd only left it down because she hadn't woken up enough to do anything more complicated than brushing out the tangles. 

It would probably have been simpler to get it cut, but Eirn's hair had always been something she'd taken far too much pride in. As a child, and indeed as a teenager, she'd always worn it in braids - whether styled herself, or patiently braided by Lira, her mother's maidservant - but as an adult, the Imperial military demanded she either cut it short, or pull it up into a discreet bun. Cutting it short was unacceptable, so a discreet bun it was - just not usually this soon after waking.

'I'm- sorry, my lord,' she started, running through the conversations they'd had yesterday - her sometimes questionable grasp of military regulations, and immediately kicking herself for poor first impressions. 'I- always wear it appropriately on duty,' she started, 'But I'll- have it up earlier in future, my lord.' 

'I- didn't mean it like that,' he replied, though - 'I actually- you look- nice, Lieutenant.'

Which was about the opposite of what she'd expected him to say, and Eirn blinked in surprise. 'Thank you, my lord,' she replied, her mouth working on autopilot as her brain tried to sleepily grab for an appropriate response. 'I- usually keep it up even when I'm off duty, my lord. Though I suppose when on retainer to Sith, one is never truly off duty, my lord. Not this is a complaint, I just-' she started - pausing abruptly when she realised she'd started to ramble pointlessly - and potentially dangerously. _Oh, Emperor. Shut_ up _, Illte._

'It would hardly be fair of me to expect you to be on call every hour of the day, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - a bizarre, slightly surreal arrangement of words for Baras's own apprentice, though Eirn kept that thought to herself. 'Though it goes without saying,' he added, 'That when you _are_ on duty, I expect you to be presented appropriately.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - wondering what, exactly, was wrong with her, and how much of it she could fix with undiluted caffeine. 'Did... you want some caf, my lord?' she added, vaguely remembering that he hadn't answered that question, and glad for a topic she could grab at that had nothing to do with her hair - or, for the most part, her idiocy.

'I- no thank you, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, a little awkwardly. 'I simply- morning briefing,' he managed, grabbing for what Eirn assumed was his notion of an authoritative tone, 'will be at the top of the hour. I expect you and Vette to be ready.'

If Eirn had to guess, he seemed as desperate for this conversation to be over as she was - though that, she knew, could easily have just been her own projection. 'Of course, my lord,' she just repeated - trying not to yawn again, as he retreated, and failing quite entirely.

-

Vette was halfway up by the time Eirn made it back to the crew quarters - was half the reason Eirn had been in the galley to start with, even if she still looked half asleep when Eirn returned. She made a noise, on spotting Eirn, that Eirn had to assume was somewhere between a greeting and a yawn.

'Good morning, Vette,' Eirn replied, smiling a little to herself. 'Caf?' she added, offering the Twi'lek one of the mugs. Quinn might not have thought very much of her, but Eirn wanted to at least _try_ and get along with the Twi'lek.

Vette looked at it like she was being offered a mug full of dead fish - before reluctantly accepting it, and giving it a wary sniff.

'I- wasn't certain how you took it,' Eirn started - and she doubted Quinn would have bothered to remember, assuming he'd even stumbled across that information, 'But I can get some sweetener, or- something, if you want-' she added, attempting not to ramble.

'Thanks,' Vette mumbled, eventually - taking a sip, and failing to grimace.

Well, it hadn't been thrown at her, which Eirn took that as a good sign - and stepped around the Twi'lek, then, intending to finish getting dressed - and, for that matter, to pull her hair up into its regulation bun.

'Is Lord Moodswings up as well? Was kinda hoping to get to the fresher before he started stomping around...' Vette added, yawning to herself between mouthfuls of caf.

'Lord Quinn is up, yes,' Eirn replied - reflecting, at that, that if Vette referred to him with such nicknames to his face she could start to understand why he was so frustrated.

'Urgh,' Vette replied, ' _Lord Quinn_. You make it sound so... _Sithy_ ,' she finished, clearly disapproving. 'If you start fillin' his head with more bloated Sithy ideas,' she added, 'we aren't gonna get along.'

Eirn just shot Vette a curious, wary glance. 'He _is_ Sith, Vette,' she replied.

_Besides_ , Eirn mused to herself, _he has the whole Empire filling his head with 'bloated Sithy ideas'. I doubt_ I _would make any difference._

'Yeah,' Vette drawled , 'But that doesn't mean you gotta encourage it.'

'Paying him the respect he is due,' Eirn replied, 'Is hardly encouraging anything.'

'Hey,' Vette protested, 'I respect him just as much as he respects me. More, probably.'

Which, Eirn could only assume, was entirely the problem - but she just sighed again, keeping that thought to herself.

-

Nar Shadaa was everything its reputation promised it would be - all bright neon lights and unidentifiable smells, and more aliens than Eirn had ever seen in one place - at least, once they ventured outside of the Imperial-aligned spaceport. The delicate, deliberate neutrality of the Hutt Cartels was unsettling, if she was honest - Eirn caught sight of more than one Republic uniform wandering around, and her hand twitched to her rifle every time.

(Vette caught sight of her, more than once; smirked, right in Eirn's line of sight, and wiping it off her face before Quinn noticed)

Halidrell Setsyn's premises weren't much of an improvement on what Eirn expected them to be, though. Slavers were slavers, whether here or on Kaas - or Ziost, for that matter. As protective as her mother was, Eirn had grown up acutely aware of the usual fate of freaks like her - alternately angry that anyone would _dare_ treat a Sith in such a way, and silently terrified that her citizenship would find some excuse to evaporate and she'd be left without recourse.

Quinn didn't look that impressed by her holdings, either, though given the situation with Vette, it seemed like a reasonable assumption he had no problem with the institution itself. He made no comment, but hardly needed to - the look of disdain on his face at Setsyn's stock said far more than words ever could.

(Vette refused to set foot inside the woman's compound, and instead sulked at the entrance; Eirn half expected the younger woman to make a break for it, and wasn't entirely sure she would have blamed her)

'Well,' Setsyn purred, glancing Quinn up and down, 'Lord Baras told me that his apprentice would be arriving, but not that you were so handsome. Your holo barely does you justice, my lord.'

Quinn, though, was entirely unimpressed. 'I'm here to do a job, Ms. Setsyn. Lord Baras said he had already briefed you on my mission?'

'He has,' Setsyn replied curtly, apparently put out by his response - or lack thereof. 'Lord Rathari has been causing no end of trouble, but disappears again as soon as he's struck. Your best bet would be to draw him out. Strike his own holdings,' she added, 'And see how much he likes it when it's _his_ profit margin up in smoke.'

'I was rather hoping,' Quinn replied, dourly, 'That you had a more precise plan of action than that.'

'Of course, my lord,' Setsyn replied - irritation flashing across her features. 'Rathari's been strong-arming the Cartels into handing over territory to his control. He can't just beat on an Imperial ally, but he's adept at applying political pressure, and from what I hear, they're about ready to cave. He's put a lot of work into this - disrupting the handover would do more than just get his attention.'

'I see,' Quinn just said, turning this information over. 'And when is this handover going to take place?'

'According to my sources, they're signing everything over today, over in the Duros sector of town. Perhaps afterwards,' she added, attempting to catch Quinn's eye, 'You and I could talk over some business of our own.'

Quinn just fixed Setsyn with a look that could only be described as _withering_. 'Your _sources_?' he just replied, sounding more than a little cynical - ignoring Setsyn's suggestion entirely.

'I'd trust them with my life, my lord,' Setsyn replied, raising her hands defensively, 'But they prefer their anonymity, and I prefer them willing to provide information. Lord Baras,' she added, pointedly, 'Has never found cause for complaint.'

Quinn did not seem convinced, but let it drop. 'This information from your- _sources_ ,' he said, almost changing the subject - but not quite, 'I want a copy of it. All of it,' he added, before she could protest, 'And _without_ further complaint.'

Setsyn started to protest - to argue something or another, but then she saw the determination in Quinn's expression, and apparently thought better of it. 'Very well, my lord,' she replied - visibly, _audibly_ , irritated. 'Will there be anything else?'

'Not for now, Ms. Setsyn. We can discuss the rest of my business on my return.'

-

Setsyn's plan wasn't without its drawbacks, but Eirn knew better than to start arguing with slavers unprovoked; slavers, as a demographic, ranked only behind Sith as the sort of person Eirn had no desire to get on the bad side of. Besides, Eirn was hardly in a position to be calling any of the shots - she had only marginally more influence on the situation than Vette did, even if all the Twi'lek seemed to want to do today was sulk.

'You disapprove, Lieutenant,' Quinn mused, though, once they were out of Setsyn's premises - Vette in tow, much to Eirn's subdued surprise.

She did, though not simply of the plan; still, Eirn kept that thought to herself, deciding to let Quinn think she was critical of only Setsyn's suggested actions, rather than the woman herself.

'It seems... inefficient, my lord,' Eirn mused - not to mention needlessly violent. 'The Hutts value their neutrality, my lord. If we're seen to be striking against them- it won't end well for the Empire,' she added, a little dubiously.

'I've no intention of upsetting the Hutts,' Quinn replied, a little tartly. 'From what Ms. Setsyn was saying, that seems to be more Rathari's style. If anything,' he mused, 'Quashing Rathari's ambitions will be doing the Hutts a favour.'

_That_ was something Eirn found it impossible to argue with. 'As you say, my lord.' She paused though, for a moment, before adding, 'You- don't want me to go through Setsyn's intelligence, my lord?'

Quinn shook his head. 'We don't have time, not if this meeting is taking place today. Our first order of business will have to be deal with this handover. After that,' he added, 'We can see about the rest of Ms. Setsyn's- _intelligence_.'

(Vette, at the way Quinn paused on that word, just smirked to herself - caught Eirn's eye, and was only further amused at Eirn's struggle to keep a straight face)


	3. Chapter 3

Body armour or no, Eirnhaya had to admit she was more than a little reticent at the thought of gatecrashing a Hutt negotiating party, especially at short notice. Setsyn's timeframe hadn't left them with much choice though; a drawback, apparently, of respecting normal business hours. Not that Eirn would have been much more thrilled about this visit if she'd had all night to dwell on it, but a little more notice than they'd had would always have been appreciated.

Quinn, if his posture and body language were anything to go by, wasn't much more thrilled than she was; he drummed his fingers irritably on the armrests of the taxi they took to the neighbourhood Setsyn had pointed them towards. It was impossible to see anything more than that, though - his own armour got in the way, something she could only assume was deliberate. Unlike many Sith, Quinn opted for full body armour, leaving nothing to chance where so many others would have preferred statements of arrogant confidence.

Vette, of course, was continuing her sulky, defiant slump - crossing her arms and scowling when either Sith glanced her way and, Eirn couldn't help but notice, glancing wistfully at the neon lights and rolling smog when she thought nobody was looking.

The safe house that Rathari was supposedly using was in a rougher area of the moon - as though, Eirn mused, there were any non-rough spots in this place; from the outside, it looked no different to the hundreds of other buildings that surrounded it, though she supposed that was rather the point. If Quinn felt even the tiniest amount as apprehensive as she did, though, he hid it well, projecting nothing but confidence as he walked down the corridors and into the room where, it turned out, Rathari's handover was going ahead without the man himself.

The Hutts were present, of course - and less than amused at Quinn's uninvited arrival, if their reaction was anything to go by. Eirn didn't speak Huttese - realised, rather belatedly, that on Nar Shadaa, this put her very much at a disadvantage. For a moment, she wondered if _Quinn_ spoke it - or if that was what Vette was here for - or, at that, if she was about to get a first-hand introduction to lightsaber diplomacy.

Quinn, though, gave every impression that he had total control of the situation - and all Vette seemed inclined to do was sulk silently. The only other near-human in the room was a Zabrak, dressed in Sith colours and who'd sneered as soon as he'd spotted Quinn and his entourage. If not Rathari - then an apprentice, presumably.

'I'll tell you who this is,' the Zabrak sneered in response to the Hutts, barely giving Quinn the slightest acknowledgement. 'This is the snivelling messenger-boy of an over-the-hill Sith named _Baras_.'

Quinn's expression was impossible to judge, hidden under plasteel as it was, and Eirn wondered for a moment just how much longer it was going to be before someone lit their saber.

'And you,' Quinn mused calmly, 'Must be Rathari's errandboy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.'

'I am Lord Girik,' the Zabrak sneered, 'Not that you will be alive to remember it. I will be the death of you, and your so-called master.'

The Hutts, at the very least, seemed to find their rivalry entertaining, though that wasn't hard to figure out. Hutts were known for their love of bloodsports; Eirn would have been more surprised if they'd been disapproving at the prospect of a Sith show of arms.

'My lord...' Eirn started quietly, though - starting to reach for her weapon.

'Stay back, Lieutenant,' Quinn just replied, his focus all on Girik. 'I can handle this whelp.'

Staying back wasn't the hard part - it was staying out of the way of the scrap at all. Quinn's fighting style was tight, and controlled - deliberate, every movement weighted and considered, every angle covered and every strike countered. Girik, though, was barely armoured - held himself with arrogance, and threw his lightsaber and his powers wildly, not seeming to care if he hit Quinn at all - missing the Hutts by all too little of a margin, and Eirn and Vette by just as much.

It was an unnecessary distraction, though - Girik, for all his theatrical arrogance, proved to be no match for Quinn. The victory was a quick, decisive one - though Quinn, to Eirn's wary surprise, was not as quick as she'd have expected to finish his opponent off.

'No matter,' Girik wheezed, half curled up on himself as he bled profusely all over the Hutt's floor, 'My master will still be the death of you. I will be avenged-'

'There's no need for that,' Quinn just replied - not moving to finish the other Sith, not yet. 'Lieutenant,' he added, not glancing to her but keeping his gaze on the fallen Sith, 'If you'd be so kind as to tend his wounds.'

It struck Eirn as something of a waste of a kolto, but she complied, all the same - approaching Girik warily, and only holstering her rifle once she had to.

'Don't you _dare_ ,' Girik spat, though - lashing at out her, not with his saber but with the Force itself.

It hit her the same, painful, way it always did - like a heavy sack full of bricks, sending her bouncing abruptly to the ground with all the grace of that same bag of bricks. At least her armour was there to take the brunt of both blows, though it didn't prevent anything worse than bruising, and the biggest victim here was her dignity.

'Lieutenant?' Quinn turned sharply, his focus finally on something other than the Zabrak.

'I'm fine, my lord,' she replied, automatically - winded, and surprised, but unhurt. Probably.

('Pathetic,' Girik muttered, still snarling as Quinn's attention returned to him. 'I do not need your _charity_. I die by my own hand!')

'Well, that was unnecessary,' Vette muttered, as she helped Eirn to her feet - adding, as Eirn dusted herself down, 'You okay, Eir?'

'I'm fine,' Eirn repeated - turning her attention back to the Sith in the room, just in time to see Girik fall on his own saber. She winced, grimacing at the sight - entirely melodramatic, and utterly unnecessary, and so inescapably-

' _Sith_ ,' Vette muttered, pulling a face, 'Am I right?'

The Hutts, of course, seemed to find the whole thing highly entertaining. Eirn wouldn't have been surprised to look up and see them calmly picking over hors d'oeuvres, and was _almost_ surprised that neither one offered a scorecard or burst into applause.

'My quarrel,' Quinn was replying, rather tartly, 'Is with Rathari, not with the Cartels. If anything, my removing him rids us both of a problem.'

The Hutts _definitely_ didn't approve of that, grumbling between themselves in a manner Eirn assumed was supposed to be them asserting their own bloated egos. 

'Then I look forward to being of service to our ally,' Quinn replied, finally - making a bow that Eirn was quite certain wasn't genuine.

Eirn took the opportunity of his distraction to unclip her diagnostic scanner, attempting to discreetly check on Quinn - to make sure that he hadn't suffered any injury that was hidden from sight by his thick armour. He ignored her, giving no sign that he'd noticed - at least not until they'd finally left the safehouse, him taking point with Eirn and Vette following up behind.

'Everything's in order, I hope, Lieutenant?' Quinn mused, his tone unreadably even.

'Of- course, my lord,' Eirn replied, a little sheepishly. 'My apologies, my lord,' she added, 'I was- I didn't want to-'

'Don't apologise for doing your job, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, once she'd given up on that sentence. His expression was impossible to read, under his thick armour, but his tone sounded more than a little amused.

'I- as- you say, my lord,' Eirn managed - clipping the scanner back to its place on her belt. 'Where to next, my lord?' she added, a little cautiously.

'For now,' Quinn mused, 'I want to speak with Ms. Setsyn in person, again. She has some explaining to do,' he finished, almost sounding _sour_.

For a moment, Vette looked like she was about to complain - and then she thought better of it, snapping her jaw back shut and relenting back into the sulk she'd been wallowing in since they'd left the ship. 

-

On their return, Setsyn's compound had gained some questionable -looking bouncers, and what Eirn could only assume was a surly client arguing with one of them; Vette, on spotting them, decided to refrain from sulking outside for now, though she stuck far closer to Eirn than Quinn.

'You looked kinda lost back there,' Vette said quietly, poking at her while Setsyn made nice with Quinn. 'You okay?'

'I- yes,' Eirn replied, batting away her finger. She'd _felt_ rather lost, and hated how obvious it had apparently been.

'Too bad the Hutts were so cranky. Only Sith would figure that pissin' them off was a better idea than talkin',' Vette harrumphed.

'You speak Huttese?' Eirn asked - not sure why she should have been surprised, but- not entirely sure why she was, either.

'You _don't_?' Vette replied - gawking, just a little.

'I'm not a diplomat,' Eirn grumbled, 'And Imperials aren't exactly encouraged to learn alien languages.'

If anything, she was surprised that Quinn _did_ \- Sith tended not to ascribe value to anything not-Sith, never mind not-Imperial - but filed this away somewhere for a later date.

'Figures,' Vette just snorted, but let the topic drop. 'Basically, the slugs were pissed that we gatecrashed their party but are into blood sports enough that Stabby and Sulky smacking each other around made up for it. They're not gonna interfere with our glorious master's mission, but they're not gonna help, either.'

'I see,' Eirn replied \- presumably Girik was Stabby, though Quinn had never struck her as _sulky_. Or was Girik's death wish enough to class _him_ has sulky?'So- if we'd actually contacted them politely, that could all have been avoided?'

'Maybe,' Vette said, shrugging. 'Or maybe they'd have had a battle royale for their dumb treaty anyway. Hutts are gross,' she finished, pulling a disgusted face.

Eirn had to admit that was a difficult idea to argue against - Hutts _were_ gross, even if Vette sounded as though she meant it in more than a simple visceral, physical, manner.

Setsyn, despite the questionable reliability of her information, was all smug serenity - and, true to her occupation, had noticed both Vette and her collar extremely quickly, and was attempting to use her as a distraction from her own failures.

'Your Twi'lek is a lovely shade of blue, my lord. I know a businessman from the Mid Rim who'd pay handsomely, if you're interested,' she was purring - trying to appeal, apparently, to Quinn's finances.

'She's not,' Quinn replied, tartly, 'For sale. Kindly focus on the business at hand, Ms. Setsyn. You owe me an explanation.'

(Vette, still hovering closer to Eirn than anyone else in the room, looked actively offended at Setsyn's offer, and wasn't much reassured by Quinn's response)

'Alright,' Setsyn replied, holding her hands up defensively, 'There's no need for any unpleasantness. As far as Rathari's concerned,' Setsyn continued, dropping the subject of Vette entirely, 'It's a pity that he wasn't at the handover, but not entirely unexpected.'

'You mean to say,' Quinn replied, not sounding amused in the slightest, 'That you knew he wouldn't be there, and still sent me on a wild gizka chase?'

'No, my lord,' Setsyn replied, irritated, 'I mean that Rathari is a man of action. I'm surprised he wasn't there to make the Hutts squirm, after all he's put them through, but you'll have sent a message. The Hutts are in a holding pattern, and word on the street is that Darth Baras's fearsome apprentice just slaughtered one of Rathari's.'

Eirn was almost certain that the _fearsome_ was thrown in as an attempt to appeal to Quinn's ego, especially given his apparently thin patience with the slaver - but that was a thought she kept to herself.

'I don't care about his apprentice,' Quinn replied, 'I care about Rathari. If you don't have some useful information for me, then perhaps it's high time you're replaced with someone who can provide it.'

That made Setsyn twitch, though she didn't take the bait. 'I've already provided you with everything I have, my lord. As soon as I hear anything more, you'll be the first to know.'

Quinn, if his body language was anything to go by, did not seem impressed. 'See that you do,' he just replied - more than a little sharply, before turning, at that, to leave.

-

On their return to the ship, Quinn didn't waste any time in making his excuses and disappearing into his quarters; Eirn wasn't much better, peeling off her armour as promptly as she could, before ducking into the crew fresher. Sonic showers would never be as refreshing as water ones, but sloughing sweat and dirty air off one's skin still felt good, and Nar Shadaa's air was objectively filthy.

When she made it back to the crew quarters, Vette was pacing around them irritably - still sulking, albeit somewhat more angrily than she had been earlier in the day, but mostly pacing and scowling and, when she spotted Eirn, making a dramatic sighing noise.

'Vette?' Eirn started, giving the Twi'lek a slightly wary look. 'Is everything alright?'

'I can't believe that- _that_ -' Vette was pacing angrily, apparently still smarting at Setsyn's- _offer_. 'I was right _there_! If it wasn't for this- kriffin-!' she added, gesturing angrily at the collar - as though it had been the only thing stopping her.

Eirn could only assume that the followup to that was the visiting of some violence on the slaver \- though she doubted that would end particularly well even without the collar. Setsyn was Baras's woman, after all, and Quinn showed no sign of being anything but dutiful.

'Setsyn?' Eirn replied, half to herself. 'Don't forget that she's one of Lord Baras's people,' she added - and Baras's staff tended towards the unpleasant end of the spectrum, though Eirn was never quite certain what, precisely, that said about herself.

'Yeah, well,' Vette retorted, still fuming - and starting, finally, to pull the outer layers of her armour off, 'that just means that Lord Stroppy needs to find an _excuse_ to stab her. Which he won't,' she added, decisively.

Eirn debated, for a moment, trying to spin Quinn's refusal of her offer in a positive light - before wincing at the unpleasant implications, and deciding that anything she said in that vein would only end badly. 'Lord Quinn wasn't too pleased with her, though,' she just replied - which was true enough.

'No,' Vette huffed, deflating angrily. 'His high and mighty Sithyness is pissy with everyone, though. It's like he's got permanent sand in his butt. Are all Sith like that,' she added, looking at Eirn, 'Or just the ones I get stuck with?'

Eirn had to wonder if Vette was including her in that generalisation, but she didn't press the issue. 'Sith are taught to draw power from their emotions,' she just replied, 'and anger is a powerful emotion.' Ah, a non-answer worthy of a philosophy undergrad.

Vette snorted in response to that, but didn't grace it with anything else. 'Whatever. I'm going for a shower. Later, Ell-Tee.'

-

Eirn, once she was cleaned and changed, had her own tasks to attend to - made herself a carafe of Imperial-standard-issue instant caf and settled down at the table in the ship's conference room, with her datapad and, set to play quietly, a broadcast from one of the Imperial-approved popular music stations on her holo. Music, she'd always found, helped her focus - particularly when picking over tedious reports. 

Setsyn's intel, though, was not so much tedious as just poor - patchy, in places, and repeated, in others. It was no wonder that their trip out to the safehouse had been a slight wild gizka chase, and Eirn couldn't help but make a note for her own mission report that Setsyn's intel gathering was less that impressive. It was doubtful that Baras would care - it was doubtful that Baras would even _read_ it - but it was worth noting, all the same.

'Lieutenant. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?'

Quinn, of course, insisted on startling her when he appeared - while she was deep in thought, chewing on her stylus as she tried to make sense out of the documentation Setsyn had provided.

'My lord,' she started, immediately switching the music off - it hadn't been loud, for exactly this reason, but that was apparently irrelevant. 'What can I do for you?'

( _Shit_ , she kept thinking, _was there something else I was supposed to be doing?_ )

'I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on Ms. Setsyn's intelligence,' Quinn replied, though - helping himself to her carafe, at that, though he'd at least thought to bring his own mug.

Eirn glanced to her datapad, for a moment - to the scrawled, doodled notes made in the margins of Setsyn's briefing, such as it was, and her total lack of useful conclusions.

'I- was still working through everything she provided, my lord,' Eirn replied, slowly. 

She had, she realised, no idea of whether Quinn had made his own inspection of Setsyn's intel, or if he'd just decided to palm the whole thing off on her. Neither option was an appealing thought, if she was honest - the former meant that this question was a test, and the latter meant that this whole mission hinged on her ability not to miss something vital in Setsyn's meandering documentation of Rathari and his activities.

_No pressure, Illte._

'Then what you've managed thus far,' Quinn said, taking the seat opposite her - not letting her escape that easily, apparently.

'Very well, my lord,' Eirn replied - unable to shake the conviction this _was_ a test, and she was about to be found wanting. 'Ms. Setsyn's associates are... terrible at providing comprehensive briefings. But from what I've read,' she mused, 'There's not much proof that Lord Rathari himself actually does any of the damage he's been credited with. Security footage is frequently corrupted or missing, and he, or- whoever he sends in, doesn't leave witnesses. He's brutal, but thorough. Or- well, whoever does his work is, my lord.'

The whole time she spoke, she was aware of Quinn watching her - his yellowed eyes boring into her, and it took all of her focus not to start dwelling on that fact. What he was watching her for, she didn't like to speculate - nervousness, ill-preparedness. _Lying. Hiding something_.

'Until recently, though, he hadn't been targeting anything associated with Lord Baras's interests. Or- well, Ms. Setsyn's interests, really. Other than his strides against the Republic,' Eirn mused, 'and occasional... conflicts of interest with the Hutts.'

'How recently is this, Lieutenant?' Quinn was paying attention, at the very least - something which Eirn was simultaneously relieved, surprised, and further intimidated by.

Eirn paused - turned the question over, glancing at her own half-meandering notes and Setsyn's equally meandering intel. 'I would- need to study the rest of her intelligence before I could give a complete answer-'

'Then give me a partially complete one,' Quinn interrupted, continuing to push her for her thoughts.

'Very well, my lord,' she replied - not confident in this half-baked extrapolation at all, but pushing on anyway. 'From everything I've looked at so far, Ms. Setsyn's- _business interests_ ,' she said, the phrase distasteful in her mouth, 'Have only been affected in the last two months, or so.'

'Interesting,' Quinn mused, half to himself. 'Do you have a theory as to why?'

She didn't - hadn't gotten that far in her thought process, and honestly hadn't expected Quinn to want her to start speculating on the reasonings of Sith. She'd always been chastised for such speculations more than anything else - reminded, sometimes painfully, of her place in the Empire's hierarchy: below Force-sensitive Sith, and frequently below Force-blind humans, too.

'If I _had_ to guess, my lord,' Eirn started, uncertainly, 'Without- having access to any of Lord Baras's information on his agent's- betrayal, it would seem to me that Lord Rathari's sudden focus on his operations could- be his influence. Maybe,' she added, ever more uncertainly.

'Maybe?' Quinn replied - sounding almost as dubious about this conclusion as Eirn was.

'Well- without knowing precisely when Agent Dellocon defected, my lord-'

'Around a month and a half ago,' Quinn replied, without missing a beat.

That hadn't been in Baras's briefing - or in the scant files that Baras had sent over in the time since, and Eirn realised that there was indeed more to this than met the eye.

'That doesn't- _quite_ match the timeline, my lord. But- if Dellocon was making overtures before he left, then it's possible that he was offering Lord Rathari intel to prove his worth.' Or lashing out at Baras, one of the two. It was an impulse that made sense - having fallen out with a powerful Sith, Dellocon strikes at him the only way he can. By reaching out to one of that Sith's enemies, and giving them the means to strike on his behalf.

'My lord,' she added \- aware that she was likely treading on thin ice, 'If I may ask- do we know anything about why Dellocon turned on Lord Baras? If the cause is known-'

'The cause, whatever it is,' Quinn replied, extremely sharply, 'Is irrelevant to the task at hand. Is there anything in this intel that we can actually use to try and locate Rathari?'

'Of course,' she replied - yes, something was definitely up, and she was straying dangerously close to pushing her luck. 'Forgive me, my lord. I-' she added, at his irritated question - getting that far, before running out of conviction with her response.

Quinn said nothing, in response to that - just continued to fix her with that analytical stare, picking apart her- her posture, she was sure, her tone, her words, whatever it was the Force was giving him about her mood and thoughts, and apparently not finding anything to sweeten his own mood.

'I'll be able to- properly answer that once I've finished going through everything, my lord,' Eirn finished, wincing at her own useless answer. That Quinn was sitting right across from her didn't make her feel any better about it - if anything, she just braced herself for some expression of his displeasure, and wasn't very reassured when nothing happened.

_Deep breaths, Illte. Remember your training._

'Very well,' Quinn simply replied, though - not sounding very impressed, but apparently willing to let it slide - for the time being. 'Was there anything else, Lieutenant?'

For a moment, Eirn debated bringing up the subject of Vette - before deciding that she was too delicate a topic to try and discuss while Quinn was already irritated with her. Besides, she had a job she should have been getting on with; implying that she'd been distracted from her work by the Twi'lek wouldn't end well for either of them.

'No, my lord,' she just replied - glancing back up to him, just for a moment, only to be met with that analytical, judgemental, stare. When Quinn did not respond, she added, 'With your permission, my lord, I would like to finish examining Ms. Setsyn's intelligence.'

Quinn looked, for a moment, like he was going to argue - but he nodded, after that moment had passed. 'Very well, Lieutenant. I expect you to notify me once you have something to report.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, with a bow of her head - an attempt, not that she expected it to succeed, to mollify him a little with deference. He didn't reply, at the very least - just left, taking his caf and his stares with him.

Once he'd gone, Eirn just sighed to herself, before reaching for her carafe to top up her own mug, and discovered that along with everything else, Quinn hadn't just helped himself to her caf - he'd helped himself to the _last_ of her caf.

_Fucking Sith._

-

When Eirn retreated to the galley to make herself a fresh pot of caf, she found Vette - eating dry crackers straight out of their container, and listening to music on her own holo that Eirn was almost _positive_ wasn't on the Ministry of Culture's approved lists.

'Hey, Eir. You here for the party?' Vette's mood seemed to have improved somewhat, too - for which Eirn was grateful, if only because of the relief it provided from Quinn's terseness. 

Eirn just smiled a little to herself, though. 'You're really dedicated to this no-domestic thing, aren't you?'

'Mhm,' Vette replied \- at least well-mannered enough not to talk with her mouth full. 'C'mon, Eir. You must know what Sith're like. You give 'em an inch an' they take a parsec.'

Eirn knew precisely what Vette meant, but decided not to pursue this line of conversation. 'Get the droid to make you something, then,' she replied, as she made her caf. 'You can't just live on dry crackers. Even _ration bars_ are better for you.'

'Can't,' Vette harrumphed, 'His Lordly Sithyness has it doin' somethin, and he gets first crack at everythin. And ration bars are gross. Oh,' she added, 'You're makin' caf? Lemme get my mug...'

'Nobody on this ship,' Eirn grumbled, not entirely seriously, 'Is willing to make their own caf, are they?'

'This is what I'm talkin' about,' Vette replied, gesturing dramatically. 'One day you're makin' him caf, the next you end up cookin' a three course meal.'

'I did not make Lord Quinn caf,' Eirn replied, exasperated - how had this conversation gotten so out of hand? 'Besides,' she added, 'You're a fine one to talk, Miss Let-me-get-my-mug.'

'That's not how you pronounce _Vette_ ,' Vette harrumphed, presenting Eirn with an almost-clean mug.

'I'm leaving,' Eirn just replied, shaking her head in disbelief. 'Some of us,' she added, 'have work to do.'

('You're proving my point!' Vette called after her - singing it, ridiculously, in tune with the probably-illegal music that she was filling the galley with)

-

Quinn, of course, had retreated to his quarters - to do what, Eirn didn't like to speculate, but the upshot of which was that she was left having to summon up the courage to knock on his door and disturb whatever he was up to, once she'd dragged as much out of Setsyn's intel as she could, and it wasn't a thought that filled her with glee.

The door opened before she could knock, though - with Quinn standing right there, looking at her expectantly as she continued to stand a little stupidly, one hand raised in order to knock and the other clutching her datapad as a kind of shield.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn began, greeting her as if nothing about this was amiss. 'You have an update for me.' A statement, not a question, and Eirn wondered for a moment if he'd been monitoring her somehow, or if she just had impeccably terrible timing.

'My lord,' she managed - thrown off entirely by his unexpected appearance. 'Of a- sort,' she added, suddenly very uncertain - lowering her hand, after a long, slightly awkward moment. 'According to Ms. Setsyn's most recent updates, Lord Rathari - or his people - have been hitting territory belonging to the Exchange. Other than his direct hits on Ms. Setsyn's interests, the Exchange has been his biggest recent target.'

'I see,' Quinn mused, turning that over. 'Do we know what he's currently after?'

'Not that I've been able to discern, my lord,' Eirn replied - a little nervously, if she was honest. Quinn was not Baras, but she was yet to meet any Sith who responded well to failure. 'I've mapped out all of the areas that that Lord Rathari's personnel are confirmed to have hit,' she added, offering him the datapad she was carrying, and hoping that the positive would outweigh the less-than-positive.

'Very well,' Quinn just replied - taking the datapad, and scrolling through her report. 'When you say his personnel, Lieutenant,' he began, 'You mean-?'

'Imperial soldiers primarily, my lord,' Eirn replied - hesitating, for a moment, before pressing on. 'According to some of the reports from Ms. Setsyn's informants, Sith have also been spotted, but there seems to be no firm indication if it's Lord Rathari himself, or more apprentices or- other subordinate Sith.'

It was the _Imperial soldiers_ part that concerned her \- Eirn had no issue with taking the fight to the Republic, or even unaffiliated criminals, but was distinctly less comfortable with the idea of fighting fellow Imperials. This was probably a concern she was going to have to keep to herself \- was, she'd realised unhappily, probably a concern she was going to have to make some measure of peace with.

Quinn, though, kept any thoughts of his own on this topic firmly to himself. 'And his current targets? Do we know what those are?'

'Not at the moment, my lord. I took the liberty of contacting Ms. Setsyn, but she hadn't received any further information. And- she can't update us until she does, unfortunately,' Eirn finished, a little awkwardly. Setsyn hadn't been thrilled to be pestered by her, either - though once she'd proven who she was, the slaver had at least been a passable facsimile of civil.

'Very well, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, frowning a little to himself as he apparently turned that over. 'In that case, I want an update first thing in the morning. The sooner we can move on Rathari, the better.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, offering him a small bow. 'Did you require anything else, my lord?'

'Not tonight, Lieutenant,' Quinn half-mused, offering her back the datapad she'd handed him. 'Get some rest,' he added, frowning a little to himself. 'Tomorrow, we're paying a visit to the Exchange.'


	4. Chapter 4

'Tomorrow' was something of an optimistic timeframe; Setsyn, despite her promises, did not have an update waiting for Eirnhaya the next morning. It was mid-morning before she deigned to answer her holo, by which point Eirn had realised (and Quinn had intimated at least twice) it would have been quicker to go and speak to the woman in person, and even then all she had to say for herself was a spirited defence of her status as Baras's most trusted operative on Nar Shadaa.

Eirn was actually rather surprised, watching that conversation, that Setsyn hadn't gagged on those words; either Quinn was working on being a different model of Sith to his Master, or was yet to master the art of the remote Force-choke. She honestly wasn't sure which one would be better; certainly, Baras would likely have preferred his apprentice be every millimetre the Sith he was, but that would at least make him predictable.

Lacking any desire to get under Quinn's feet, Eirn ended up sequestering herself away in the medbay - busied herself with a stockcheck, perusing their supplies and familiarising herself with the layout as she checked their records and, where necessary, updated them. Someone, she noted, had been helping themselves to the kolto gel without updating the stock; there were only two possible culprits, and both of them had good cause and the presumable unfamiliarity with Imperial procedure that would result in the count being off. _Arrogance, ignorance, same difference._

She was joined, partway through her task, by one of the suspects - who promptly parked herself on the bed, playing illegal music on her holo and snacking on what looked like dried ziiberries.

'Hello, Vette,' Eirn mused, smiling a little to herself. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

'His Lordly Sithyness is sulking,' Vette harrumphed, 'And you're better company than the droid.'

Which Eirn wasn't entirely certain was a compliment, but she took it anyway. 'Sith do not _sulk_ , Vette,' Eirn replied, though - they brooded, they meditated. (They sulked.) 

'They do,' Vette retorted, 'And you know it.'

'So what are you doing, then?' Eirn just replied - batting the conversation as far away from Quinn's moods as she could.

'Eating,' Vette replied, as though this was not self-evident. 'Nobody to shoot and nothing to slice, soo...'

'You could give me a hand in here,' Eirn mused, 'If that's not too much of a departure from slicing and shooting.'

'Depends,' Vette replied, 'What're you doing?'

'A stock check,' Eirn replied, absent-mindedly. 'I haven't had a chance, since I came aboard,' she added, 'and someone has been helping themselves to the kolto gel. That,' she mused, 'Or whoever did the last stock check messed up.'

'Wasn't me,' Vette replied immediately - failing to elaborate, helpfully, what it was she was denying. 'Anything else gone?'

'Nothing yet,' Eirn replied, after a moment - still working through the medication stock, but glancing to Vette, just for a moment. 'How's your neck?'

'I told you, it wasn't me,' Vette grumbled defensively. 'Fuckin' Imps. Stuff goes missing, so _of course_ the Twi'lek stole it-'

'Alright,' Eirn interrupted, 'I believe you, Vette.' She wasn't certain she did, but the argument wasn't worth it. 'How is your neck, though?' she repeated - focusing on Vette, finally.

'Sore,' Vette grumbled, after a moment - glowering as she did so, her facade of a good mood rapidly evaporating.

'Do you want me to take a look?' Eirn asked, a little cautiously. Occasional pitching in with medical for the holding cells in Sobrik had given her experience dealing with shock collars and their aftermath, and even ones that weren't actively used still left their mark.

'No,' Vette replied, immediately defensive - and then, 'What I _want_ is for someone to take this kriffin' thing _off_.'

'That's not going to happen until you've proven you can be trusted to behave, Vette.' Quinn chose that moment to announce himself from the doorway - startling Eirn, and getting himself a scowl from Vette.

'Forgive me, my lord,' Eirn started, 'I didn't realise you were there.'

'Lieutenant.' He paused, glancing at Vette for a moment, before adding, 'She isn't pestering you, I hope?'

'No, my lord,' Eirn replied - the Twi'lek wasn't helping, either, but having some company was nice. 'Was there something you needed, my lord?' she added, hoping to deflect the conversation somewhere safer.

'Here,' Quinn replied, offering her a datapad. 'Ms. Setsyn finally sent over an update. I want you to get on this immediately,' he added - not even stopping to ask what her self-assigned task in here had been.

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn said, taking the datapad - glancing over its screen, and groaning a little inwardly. Setsyn's data didn't look to be much of an improvement on what she'd provided the previous day, but an order was an order.

'So,' Vette started, as soon as Quinn was gone, 'Does this mean you're makin' caf?'

-

It did not help that Eirn kept feeling herself being distracted by thinking about the state of the medbay while she went through Setsyn's intel; she wondered, more than once, if the woman was just throwing useless information at Quinn in a bid to keep him off her back. It wasn't a tactic that would have worked on Baras, but if Setsyn was only recently Baras's closest thing here to an operative- well, it would explain a lot about her attitude, never mind her competence.

Quinn, of course, eventually saw fit to join her at the conference table, in search of an update - even if it was to find that her carafe was already empty, and her conclusions were much the same as they'd been previously.

'I've been able to update the map of Rathari's territories,' Eirn mused, calling up a display on the conference table's holo, 'But without live data- we could guess where he's going to hit next, but without the ability

'Your point, Lieutenant?' Quinn interrupted,

'It's- my belief that we don't have enough information to make a firm prediction of his plans, my lord,' Eirn managed, condensing her point into as few words as possible.'Most of his activity seems concentrated in the Industrial district, at the current time. The nearest taxi point is an hour out from the spaceport,' she added, 'But we'd still need confirmation of what he's hitting.'

Which carried its own unspoken addendum; by the time they got there, it was unlikely that the party would still be going - they wouldn't be fresh, and this would more than likely turn into an utter waste of time.

'So your recommendation, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, slowly, 'is- what, exactly?'

'At the moment, my lord,' Eirn replied, slowly, 'We don't have enough firm information for me to be happy making a recommendation.'

Which was always an answer that Sith took well - even if Quinn just studied her critically for a long, unpleasantly silent, moment.

'Very well,' he replied, eventually. 'But if this changes, Lieutenant,' he added, 'I want to know _immediately_.'

-

Quinn's mood was not much improved the following morning; if anything, it was ever worse, given their lack of useful progress the previous day. Eirn had at least managed to autopilot her hair into a loose bun when she ran into him as she left the galley, clutching her first caf of the morning; she managed not to spill any on him, also making it her first victory of the morning, but her stammered apology didn't get her anything more civil than a snipped _Lieutenant_ in return. He was blessedly absent when she returned to make herself some breakfast - and when she called Setsyn, for that matter, hoping simultaneously that the slaver had some useful information, and that it wouldn't result in having to traipse around the slums of Nar Shadaa.

She was in luck, sort of; Setsyn was smiling to herself far too smugly, something which did not inspire a single iota of confidence in Eirn, especially when the woman began to actually talk. Just because Quinn hadn't been there when Eirn had made the call, of course, didn't mean that he didn't see fit to join her - or to start arguing with Setsyn when she couldn't give him an ironclad guarantee of Rathari's presence at an assault apparently currently underway.

'I've only just received this information myself, _my lord_ ,' Setsyn replied, her irritation audible even over the holo. 'I can't guarantee Rathari will be there, but his men certainly are. Putting a halt to their little excursion will get his attention, I can promise you that much.'

'Very well,' Quinn snapped, 'But if this information does not pan out-'

'Then you are more than welcome to take it up with my sources, my lord.'

(Eirn wondered if she'd have been so quick to sign on with Quinn if he'd treated her as abruptly back on Balmorra; if she'd lucked out and he'd taken out the worst of his moods there on the Republic, or if the only reason he'd been as polite to her as her had been was that he looked at her and saw something that she wasn't)

-

Quinn's mood did not improve much once they'd left the ship; he was irritable for the entire duration of the taxi ride to the nearest stand to Setsyn's coordinates. Eirn found herself rather hoping that Rathari _would_ be there, if only to give Quinn something to take his mood out on that wasn't likely to end up being _Imperial soldier_.

-

That Rathari was hitting the Exchange instead of courting them probably said something about his priorities, though Eirn wasn't sure what that was. The Exchange operated quite openly on Nar Shadaa - were perfectly lawful by local standards, though this was not a high bar to clear. More than that, their operations were a rival to everyone else's - including Baras's own. Taking them down a peg or two would be a boon to all of their rivals, including Rathari's own opposition, but Eirn could only suppose this was some calculated ploy in an equation she was mostly ignorant of.

The facility under siege looked to be a warehouse facility - was located in the industrial district, nestled between myriad other factories and storage plants, with at least one gang war going on a few blocks over. Here, the Empire were little more than one more gang, even if they had better uniforms than most, a thought that did not sit well with Eirn.

The outer sectors were, by all appearances, already secured - the Exchange, it seemed, were on the back foot, retreating into the depths of their facility. Quinn, at the very least, was not leaping in saber blazing - approached the pair of soldiers that had been left guarding the outer entrance of the facility, all Sith charm and diplomacy.

'You there,' Quinn snapped, 'soldier. Who's in charge, here?'

'Captain Kligton, sir- my lord,' the hapless private replied - glancing again between Quinn and Eirn, realising that one of them had a lightsaber and the other was, underneath her Imperial-standard-issue body armour, a good deal his senior. 'He's further in, leading the assault. Are you- here to assist, my lord?'

'Something like that,' Quinn replied, obtusely - a threat that apparently went right over the Private's head. 'If you'd be so kind as to introduce us.'

The Private kept glancing at Eirn, as though looking for her approval; she said nothing, just remaining at her lord's rear. There were reasons that she wore an enclosed helmet when in the field, and it wasn't because she loved helmet hair; there was one thing that never failed to annoy _Sith-_ Sith, and that was when she was mistaken for one of them.

There was nothing quite like being hideously outnumbered, even if they were hideously outnumbered by what would ordinarily have been friendly troops. It was distinctly unpleasant \- made all the more so, somehow, by the fact that the possibly-enemy was their own, and Eirn just kept on hoping that this could still end without more Imperial deaths than necessary.

Their Captain looked Quinn up and down, visibly assessing the threat - pointedly glanced over Eirn and Vette, as well, even if the latter was doing nothing but glowering at anything foolish enough to catch her eye.

'My lord,' he just said, in greeting - not offering Quinn a salute or bow, but not quite defiant, not yet. 'Who are you? What brings you out here?'

'I am here seeking your master,' Quinn replied - getting right to the point. 'Where is he?'

'You must be Lord Quinn, then,' Kligton mused, glancing back to Eirn and Vette for half a moment. 'I should warn you, my lord,' he added, 'We've been given orders to shoot you and any with you on sight.'

_Figures._ Eirn had to admit she wasn't surprised in the slightest by this - wondered for a moment if Quinn had bothered to realise it in turn, or if this news to him.

'I would expect nothing less,' Quinn replied - his tone remarkably even, for a man who'd just been threatened with summary execution. 'I take it,' he added, 'That Rathari himself is not here, then?'

'He is not, my lord,' Kligton said, studying Quinn with a wary expression on his face. 'Though his orders concerning you were quite clear.'

'You'd be wise to disregard those orders,' Quinn replied, his tone just as even as before. 'If you are concerned about retribution from Lord Rathari,' he added, 'Then allow me to put your mind at ease, Captain. Once I have met with your master, your orders will no longer be relevant.'

Eirn found herself sympathising with the man - it was an impossible dilemma. Refusing Quinn's demands might kill him now, but betraying Rathari's orders might kill him and his troops later. Adding in the fact that Rathari was acting with the Dark Council's blessing just made it worse - what Quinn was hinting at was technically treason. Even if Quinn succeeded in his mission, there was no guarantee that this couldn't still blow up in everyone's faces - excepting, of course, perhaps Baras himself.

Kligton, though, just snorted. 'And that's supposed to reassure me, is it?'

Eirn's attention was grabbed by Vette tapping her on the arm; when she looked, it was to see that there were Exchange moving into position - probably more, out of sight, but they very much had the advantage.

'My lord,' she murmured, 'We've got company.'

Quinn followed her glance, for a split second; Kligton did, as well, bringing both of the major players in this little drama up to speed.

'What's it to be, Captain?' Quinn asked, though - adding, after a moment, 'I would recommend you choose wisely, but quickly.'

For a second, Kligton looked like he might have been about to do something sensible. 'Men,' he called, though, 'You know what your orders are. _Open fire!_ '

-

It was a slaughter, because of course it was - the Exchange firing on everyone not their own, Rathari's men as focused on the Sith they were ordered to outnumber as much as the criminals they'd come here to conquer, and Quinn deflecting every blaster bolt with ease and cutting down anyone stupid enough to get in his way - starting with Kligton, who'd been the perfect mixture of arrogant and stupid enough to waltz into this warzone unarmoured. 

Eirn, of course, tried to move immediately for cover - immediately found herself set upon by two of Kligton's men, one of who get her vibroknife in his throat, and the other got a vicious left hook, staggering back out of her awareness and removed from it entirely when she was hit abruptly from behind, sending her sprawling to the floor.

It took her a long moment to work out what had happened; that the blows on her back had been from blaster bolts on her armour, that she was going to have some colourful bruising when this was over, and that she was currently doing a fantastic impression of a beached whale. Her armour had held, she knew that much - before gritting her teeth and crawling into cover, grateful that Quinn was enough of large, brightly-lit and mobile target that he was drawing the majority of the fire. One more reason she had no desire to ever be truly Sith; lightsabers were elegant, yes, but getting that up close and personal to blaster fire - never mind other lightsabers - was an eternally repulsive concept.

At least here, ducked behind some inactive machinery, she could breathe - stick herself with a stim for the pain, and bite her tongue while she waited for it to kick in. Providing covering fire for Sith had never been a strong suit of Eirn's, but she did what she could - unhappy at having to swallow back her desire not to fire on Imperial uniforms, but unpleasantly aware that she was just as much their target as Quinn \- and, for that matter, the Exchange.

When the dust settled, though, there were as many Imperial corpses as Exchange ones, and Eirn was only barely reassured that there were no _Sith_ ones. Quinn, of course, cut an imposing figure; Eirn was still surprised every time his armour hadn't involved a billowing cape, along with all his other indulgences of Sith theatrics. Still, he was a young Sith; there was still plenty of time for him to succumb to one of those inevitabilities.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn said, glancing her over, once she'd emerged from her spot - studying the way she held herself, the way her rifle strap dangled awkwardly from one shoulder, and the delicate movements of her stance. 'You've been hit.'

'On my armour, my lord,' Eirn replied, not looking forward to the moment when the stim began to wear off. 'It hurts,' she admitted, as she unclipped her medical scanner from its place on her belt, 'But I've survived worse.'

She'd gotten lucky, really; much higher and it would have hit the weaker point where the armour flexed so that she could move in it - wouldn't have seared her armour, so much as seared _her_. It would need repair, probably, but that was what the droid was for.

(Her back already twinged, as she breathed; not enough that she couldn't breathe, but enough that she knew that it was going to do more than twinge once the adrenaline faded and the drugs metabolised)

'Where's Vette?' she added, glancing around - rather hoping that she wouldn't have to end up scraping the Twi'lek off the floor.

'I'm here,' Vette grumbled - deactivating a stealth generator that Eirn hadn't realised she had, startling Eirn in the process. 'You're way too jumpy, Ell-Tee.'

' _Vette_ ,' Quinn just snapped - his sharp tone saying more than words ever could. Vette rolled her eyes, but said nothing - just lapsed back into her customary sulk.

'Well,' Eirn managed, making some attempt at normalcy, 'You've suffered no serious injury, though- I would recommend that you use some kolto gel for your bruising once we return to the ship, my lord.' 

It would be quite impressive, once it blossomed, if the scan was anything to go by; Eirn didn't doubt for a second that Quinn's meditations would work wonders of their own, but she was yet to encounter a Sith who didn't take shortcuts when they were offered.

Quinn just nodded, checking what remained of Kligton for signs of life - and anything useful, if she had to guess. His search apparently turned up nothing - no datapad, no comm unit - though the man was missing one of his arms, and a good deal of his blood.

'What about- Rathari's men, my lord?' Eirn started, hesitating - running the scanner over Vette, as she did so. There were survivors - wounded, but at least some would probably live, if they received medical attention. Eirn wasn't a doctor - hadn't taken any kind of _do no harm_ oath, but still felt compelled to help fellow Imperials.

Quinn, though, she wasn't sure she trusted to feel similarly - he'd certainly cut down their CO with little to no hesitation, as well as anyone else stupid or unlucky enough to be in his immediate vicinity. True, they'd turned on Quinn with little thought themselves, but Sith callousness regarding Imperial lives was a well-known, well-established fact. His attitude on Balmorra had made Eirn hope that Quinn was a little different, in that regard, but she was rapidly revising a lot of the conclusions she'd drawn in the safety and comfort of Sobrik.

'Leave them. I want Rathari to know we were here.'

Which was tantamount to a death sentence, and - Eirn reflected - Quinn likely knew it. Orders were orders, though, and Eirn knew Sith better than to argue with one in a bad mood. At least, she tried to tell herself, he hadn't ordered they finish the job themselves.

'My lord,' she just acknowledged, though - swallowed back her objections, and wondered if it was too late to be reassigned to Hoth.

-

At the very least, Quinn did not insist on berating Setsyn in person; instead, he berated her over the comm, exchanging several terse words with her during their ride back to the spaceport. Her intel had been accurate, in her defence; she'd explicitly not promised Rathari - or, for that matter, Dellocon, but Quinn was in a mood all the same.

(Eirn winced every time the taxi shifted and jolted; thought about using another stim every time, and was kept from this indulgence only by her misplaced pride)

-

On their return to the ship, Eirn tried - and failed - to acquire Vette's help in applying kolto to her bruising; tried, and failed, to get Quinn to accept medical assistance for the blows that had only been half-absorbed by his own armour, and tried - and failed - to make a mug of caf without Vette appearing out of nowhere, grinning to herself like a gremlin and disappearing again the instant her mug contained a serving of Imperial-caf-substitute. Once the caf gremlin had been appeased, Eirn retreated into the cargo bay, clutching her own mug - was even, for a while, left to her own devices.

'Hey, Eir. Watcha doin?'

It couldn't last, of course; the caf gremlin was easily bored, and seemed to view Eirn as- well, as better company than the droid, something which Eirn still wasn't convinced was a compliment. She glanced at Vette, but didn't pay the Twi'lek much heed, once she was certain she wasn't about to have any unpleasant surprises. 'Cleaning my rifle,' she replied, after a moment. 

The gun cabinet, in defiance of several military regulations, was open while she worked; in addition to Vette's blasters and a couple of spare rifles, Eirn's vibrosword had also found a home there. She'd contemplated keeping it in her locker for precisely the length of time it had taken her to recognise the locks they used, and the fact that even _she_ knew how to slice them open. The gun cabinet was at least more secure; not impenetrable, but more of a challenge to easily bored Twi'leks.

'Hmm,' Vette managed, leaning round Eirn to nose at the workbench before starting to nose through gun cabinet - usually kept locked for exactly this reason. 'Woah,' she added, picking up the sword, kept in its sheath. 'Is that- can I...?'

'That's mine,' Eirn replied - putting her rifle down and moving to pluck the sword out of Vette's grasp - sheath and all. 'And _no_.'

'Spoilsport,' Vette grumbled, pulling a face. 'I thought only Sith were allowed swords.'

'Only Sith are allowed _lightsabers_ ,' Eirn replied, placing the sword back in the cabinet, where it belonged. 'It's part of my dress uniform,' she added, a little absently.

'It's a _real_ sword?' Vette added, apparently fascinated by it.

_No, it's clearly a holo-replica._ Evidently Quinn had not had an Imperial retainer before her - or Vette was making fun of her. Or was simply incredibly bored.

'A real, functional, cortosis-weave vibrosword,' Eirn replied, sighing, 'With an incredibly sharp blade. So _no playing_.'

'So- wait,' Vette started, refusing to let the topic die, 'You could fight a lightsaber with that? Like- a Jedi?'

That just made Eirn snort, with an ugly sort of laughter. 'The blade is lightsaber-proof,' she replied, 'But without the Force, I'm still at a massive disadvantage.'

'So why bother?' Vette said, pulling a face. 'Even if it's just for fancy parties?'

'It's not for _me_ ,' Eirn replied, looking straight at the Twi'lek for a moment - trying to puzzle out if the girl was actually interested, or just pestering her because she was bored. 'Traditionally,' she added, 'An officer on retainer to a Sith Lord carries a blade for their Lord's use, should theirs be... indisposed.'

'But what about _you_?' Vette replied, a little dubiously. 

'We live for the Sith. We die for the Sith,' Eirn just replied, slightly absently - turning her attention back to her disassembled rifle.

There were other, less cheerful reasons that Sith retainers traditionally carried swords. In the case of their Lord's defeat or capture, a sworn officer was supposed to fall on their sword rather than swear fealty to their Lord's enemies - a hangover from ancient times, and one that existed in the modern Empire mostly only as a dramatic trope. Such a custom hadn't been _law_ in centuries, and certainly all Imperial officers in service to a Sith would have taken oaths to the Empire that - in theory - overrode fealty to any individual Sith - but that didn't make them any less of a poor omen.

Vette just watched her silently for a further moment; Eirn ignored her, her attention all on servicing her weapon.

'Okay,' Vette said, eventually, 'Either you have the best sabacc face I've seen in six months, or you're more insane than Lord Poutalot, and I'm not sure which scares me more.'

Eirn couldn't help but smile to herself at that remark. 'But why,' she asked, 'Can't it be both?'

'Well,' Vette replied, thoughtfully. 'you _are_ a Sith.'

Which just made Eirn laugh joylessly, as true as that technically was.

'Do you actually know how to use that thing, Lieutenant?' Quinn announced his presence from the cargo bay's doorway, not with a greeting but a challenge - of course.

Eirn couldn't help but frown a little at the question, though - even as she attempted to answer politely anyway. 'I do, my lord. I have some training in the Shii-Cho style, though I'm a little rusty.'

Only the aspects that did not require the Force, for obvious reasons - though Eirn was rather hoping Quinn was smart enough to work that out himself.

'Not many Imperial officers are trained in lightsaber styles, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - a challenge as much as it was an observation. _What business do you have, knowing how to fight with a saber?_

'Not many Imperial officers were raised in Sith households, my lord,' Eirn replied, not missing a beat.

It was a slightly impertinent response, perhaps, but one that made Quinn chuckle. Apparently their outing had done wonders for his sense of humour. 'Is Lord Baras aware of this training?' he asked, though - _needling_ at her, she knew it.

'He had me duel one of his other apprentices, my lord,' Eirn replied, sighing, 'Back when I was first detached to his service.' Baras had been more amused at his discovery of Eirn's training than she'd thought he would be; ambitious Sith, she knew, tended to guard their secrets jealously.

'I see,' Quinn replied, apparently dubious about this story. 'And how did that end?'

'With three days in a kolto tank, my lord.' Plus the better part of the rest of that week recuperating from time in a kolto tank, plus the time it had taken her to make up for the time she'd lost convalescing.

'For them?' Vette managed, somewhere between incredulous and impressed.

'For me,' Eirn sighed. 'Lord Baras had us duel without use of the Force,' she added, at Quinn's look, 'and when Lord Ba'al couldn't easily get the upper hand, he decided to disregard that instruction.'

Ba'al had expected an easy victory - against an upstart of a Force-blind freak, who had the sheer nerve to pretend to _any_ kind of understanding of Sith combat - and Eirn had been too stubborn to let him, drawing on every dirty trick she'd learned standing up for herself as an angry teenager. It wouldn't have been enough to win - even if he hadn't lost his temper and resorted to throwing her across Baras's offices with the Force, he'd still have had the superior stamina granted to him by it. If anything, her defiance had probably made him angrier, but Eirn had been - and still was - too angry and too proud to simply roll over.

'You were fightin' a Sith, and you're surprised they'd cheat?' Vette snorted - ignoring the look it got her from Quinn.

'Sith fight to win,' Eirn just replied. It was difficult not to be bitter about it - impossible, actually, as petty as it was. She'd just counted herself lucky that Baras had found the whole affair entertaining enough to allow her leave to properly recover.

Quinn's expression, though, could best be described as _intrigued_ \- something that never boded well, particularly from Sith. 'Perhaps you would care to spar with me some time, Lieutenant? I'll do my best not to put you into a kolto tank,' he added, smiling a little - his idea of a joke, presumably.

'It would be my honour, my lord,' Eirn replied, with the very slightest of nods - really, how else _could_ she respond? Sith got what Sith wanted. At the very least, Eirn tried to tell herself, Quinn didn't unnerve her _nearly_ as much as Ba'al had - and Baras wouldn't be there to delight in or encourage his apprentice's sadism.

(Vette made a show of rolling her eyes, but said nothing)

Quinn looked for a moment like he was about to add something further, but was cut off by ship's comm chirping - someone was hailing them, despite the relatively late hour.

'I'll-' Eirn started, fully expecting Quinn to leave her to answer it.

'No, Lieutenant,' Quinn interrupted, 'I'll answer it. Continue you work here,' he added, before turning to leave.

'You're _really_ gonna fight him?' Vette asked, once he was gone - probably not once he was out of earshot, but Eirn wasn't quite sure the Twi'lek cared too deeply about that.

'Once we're done with the mission,' Eirn replied - hopefully Quinn could bring himself to wait that long before flattening her. 'If Lord Quinn desires it, yes.'

'Do you, like,' Vette started, 'Enjoy pain, or something?'

'I enjoy not being disciplined for failing to follow orders,' Eirn replied - about to add something further when she heard Quinn shouting for her attention from the holo.

That made Eirn, frown \- and she paused, placing her rifle's components on the workbench and stepping out of the cargo bay. 'My lord?'

'Get your gear, quickly. Ms. Setsyn's compound is under attack.' Quinn was already moving himself - not stopping to offer any kind of explanation.

'Under- what?' Eirn started, not entirely following.

' _Now!_ ' Quinn just snapped, through, before turning abruptly towards his quarters - to get his own gear, presumably.

_Setsyn's-?_ 'Shit,' Eirn muttered, retreating back to the cargo bay. 'Vette-' she started to add - hesitating over her half-reassembled rifle for a moment before grabbing one of the spares, instead.

'I heard,' Vette grumbled, interrupting her. 'Got my blasters. I guess,' she muttered, 'We couldn't let an accident happen?'

'Not now that you've suggested it,' Eirn scolded her, 'No. Now, _move_.'

-

Nar Shadaa did not have anything even remotely approaching a police force, which was generally to the preference to all of its inhabitants - so there were no officials, no flashing lights, no challenge to Quinn's air of bad-tempered authority - though there were plenty of wary, curious locals. It likely didn't help, Eirn mused, that the short notice hadn't given them a chance to grab their armour - Quinn was just wearing his robes, and Eirn was in her everyday uniform, with all the assumptions it meant people were making about her skin.

Setsyn's bouncers were still at their posts - still slightly warm, if somewhat bloodier than usual. There was nothing left alive inside, either - blaster and lightsaber burns on the walls, bloody footprints that turned into faded smears. Setsyn's stock had not been spared, either - executed where they'd been collared and caged, and Eirn couldn't help but grimace a little at the sight. 

The woman herself was in her offices - had tried to barricade herself inside, if the wreckage was anything to go by, and had been simply blown past by her anonymous intruders. She was already dead when they arrived, slumped in a heap on the floor, her head lolling unnaturally to one side.

'Oh no. What a shame.' Vette was predictably unmoved - prodding Setsyn's corpse with her foot, and pretending not to see the glare she got from Quinn.

Eirn ignored the both of them, squatting next to the slaver - checking her over for signs of injury, and for that matter, what had killed her.

_Faint nail marks on her throat. Bloodshot eyes. Couldn't have happened to a nicer piece of shit._

Setsyn's holo was on her desk - blinking with a saved message, and one that Quinn set to play back. Eirn immediately recognised the Sith who'd left it - who matched the scant, half-useless information that Baras had forwarded.

_Rathari._

' _Lord Quinn. I tire of your petty interferences. You and your irrelevant Master act in defiance of the Emperor and of the Dark Council. Come to my headquarters in Network Access, at these coordinates, and we will settle this. Bring your runt and your slave, if you must. To the victor, the spoils._ '

'Because that's absolutely not a trap,' Vette muttered - getting herself another glare from their Sith.

'Of course it is,' Quinn replied, sharply - before replaying the message, studying the holographic recording of the Sith they'd been chasing.

'And are we to spring this trap, my lord?' Eirn asked, standing up, finally - wincing, a little, as the bruising on her back complained.

Quinn didn't answer, for a long moment; when he did, it was not with anything that inspired confidence.

'All in good time, Lieutenant.'


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to the ship, after that, was more than a little underwhelming - Quinn spending the taxi journey examining the holo Rathari had left, as though the device itself might turn up some further clue, and Vette not so much sulking as staring morosely at Nar Shadaa's bright lights. As soon as they'd made it back Quinn, of course, muttered something inaudible and disappeared into his quarters, taking Rathari's holo with him; Eirn was starting to wonder if the Sith ever left his quarters voluntarily. It at least meant she could be left alone to finish reassembling her rifle though, even if she discovered that Twovee had helpfully tidied it away during their impromptu excursion. She was left alone to her task, too - no demands from Quinn, no pestering from the caf gremlin, and the solitude of it unsettled her.

Vette wasn't difficult to find, at the very least; she was curled up on the couch in the common area, listlessly picking at her nails and wallowing in what didn't seem to be a sulk so much as a despondent mope. The Twi'lek had been distant since they'd found Setsyn; distracted, and Eirn wasn't certain she'd like the answer if she tried to puzzle out why.

'Vette? Are you okay?'

'Yeah,' Vette replied, slightly absent-mindedly. 'Just, you know,' she added - shrugging, and then failing to elaborate.

When she looked back up at Eirn, though, that wary, cynical disbelief was back. 'Why do you even care? You're an _Imp_ ,' she added, injecting as much venom into that word as she could muster.

It was difficult not to flinch - not just at the words, or even Vette's tone, but the disgusted, accusatory glare she gave Eirn. It didn't come as a surprise, at least in part - Eirn was Sith, of a kind, and- well, an _Imp_. Still, she couldn't help but resent being lumped in with the likes of Setsyn, Imp or no.

'That doesn't mean I can't care,' she replied, a little defensively - failing, equally, to go into the details of why. 

'Yeah, well,' Vette started - seeming like she was about to protest further, before just deflating. 'Least _Mizz Setzyn_ got what was comin' to her,' she growled. At any other time, in any other situation, Eirn might have scolded her for her poor impression of Quinn, but for now she just let it slide.

Baras, Eirn suspected, wouldn't be thrilled at Setsyn's death; then again, there were likely hordes of underlings who'd gladly slit each other's throats for the chance to run his affairs here. Eirn was not in the habit of mourning slavers, and saw no reason to begin now, but that didn't make it any easier to know what to say. She had appearances to keep up too, even if she doubted Vette would appreciate them, and there was nothing she could say in this vein that wouldn't somehow end badly.

'I take it,' Eirn just said, deciding just to change the topic entirely, 'You haven't eaten?'

'What? No,' Vette replied, caught off guard enough to give an honest answer - and then, warily, ' _Why_?'

'Get cleaned up,' Eirn sighed, 'And I'll make us something to eat. Have you got any preference?'

'As long as I don't have to cook it,' Vette replied, still unenthusiastic but at the very least moving, 'I really don't care.' 

-

After some digging around in the galley, Eirn managed to find egg powder and tinned mystery meat and what were apparently freeze-dried vegetables; she made them both omelettes, Vette hovering all the while (inspecting the process, Eirn supposed, to make sure nothing untoward was going into her meal). At Eirn's demand she either help or get out from under her feet, Vette produced her holo from the depths of her clothing, and promptly set it to play (irritatingly catchy, probably illegal) music. ('I'm helping,' Vette insisted, at Eirn's dubious expression. 'Music improves food. Fact.')

They ate at the conference table - Eirn leaving the droid to clear up, Vette insisting on bringing the illegal music with them. Eirn had to admit that she was a little surprised Quinn hadn't crashed their party; granted, given Vette's mood, and the effect he tended to have on the Twi'lek, this was probably for the best.

'What I don't get,' Vette started, as they ate, 'is why you call it a food _substitute_.'

'Because it's not food,' Eirn replied, 'It's an approximation of food. Actual eggs and meat and fresh vegetables would taste much better.'

'Seems pretty foody to me,' Vette shrugged. 'Even Imps make dried egg from real egg, right?'

'I assume so,' Eirn replied - though she'd always tried not to think too hard about where the mystery meat came from. 'Just stay away from the ration bars.'

Vette, at that, just snorted. 'Our glorious leader eats nothing _but_ ration bars.'

'Imperial ration bars?' Eirn repeated, not quite believing what she was hearing. 'Voluntarily?'

Imperial ration bars were formulated to be easy to store over long periods of time, to provide the minimum of sustenance a soldier would need in the field, and to be as inoffensive to the palate as possible - the human palate, and in theory. Eirn was far from a picky eater, but as a cadet she'd quickly drawn the conclusion that either Sith were never expected to try and eat the things, or that someone, somewhere, simply enjoyed the thought of making Imperials suffer. They were one of the few Imperial food substitutes she'd never managed to make tolerable, and she avoided them at all possible costs.

'Mhm,' Vette replied \- adding, 'It's not like he'd lower himself to eating with us. Well- _me_ ,' she harrumphed, scowling.

There were several interesting questions this raised, but Eirn decided to tuck most of them away, for the time being. (perhaps, she realised belatedly, she should have made Quinn something, too; granted, _cook_ had not been one of the duties they'd discussed, but Eirn had never met a Sith who would turn down a meal made just for them).

'His loss,' Eirn replied though, determined not to let the mood of the conversation slide any further south than it absolutely had to. 'Just means better food for us.' For a given value of _better_.

'You mean food substitute,' Vette deadpanned, 'Right?'

Eirn snorted, at that; made the mistake of doing so with a mouthful of omelette and ended up choking - not a dignified response in the slightest. Vette, of course, found this series of events highly entertaining, dissolving into giggles for the entire duration of Eirn's misadventure.

'You,' Eirn managed, once she'd regained the ability to breathe, 'Are no help whatsoever.'

'I'm your appreciative audience,' Vette preened, 'And. Eater of food.'

(at least, Eirn reflected to herself, Vette's mood had picked up a little; not _quite_ worth the indignity of choking on her dinner, but it was something)

-

Vette disappeared entirely, after they'd eaten, leaving Eirn to pick over the information that Rathari had left them with. Quinn hadn't ordered her to prepare any briefings, but Eirn knew Sith well enough to guess he'd want one before they headed out - that if there was anything to be found on the traps he'd no doubt have laid, Eirn would be expected to have found them. More than once, as she worked, she wondered if the holo that Quinn had taken into his quarters had anything useful in its own memory - and how amenable Quinn would be to her asking him, but a lifetime around Sith had taught Eirn that if they had holed up in their sanctums, then disturbing them for anything short of the Emperor himself was not a course of action that would end well for her.

It was a train of thought that was still bothering her as she prepared to turn in for the night - as she took a few moments just for herself in the confines of the crew fresher to organise her thoughts. Moments of privacy aboard the ship were rare; Eirn knew of three locking doors, and one of them was to Quinn's quarters. The other two were the medbay (to which locking herself inside would have raised questions, especially given the lack of medical attention anyone needed) and the crew fresher (which too would raise questions if she spent too long in here). 

_And we're still no wiser on why Dellocon defected to begin with._

Eirn paused at that, though - remembered Quinn's clipped response to her last question in this direction. _Or at least, I am._

Quinn clearly knew more about this mission than he saw fit to tell her; it was probable, Eirn mused, that Vette might know something, too. The tricky part was asking her - they didn't exactly know each other very well, and Eirn was acutely aware of her status as a newcomer in this arrangement. Vette clearly disliked Quinn, but- well, she had little reason to trust Eirn, either. She was, as Vette kept reminding her, an _Imp_.

And then Vette started banging on the fresher door, and her time was up.

-

Morning briefing the following day was a far tenser affair than Eirn had hoped for - Quinn was pacing irritably before Eirn had even started speaking, and Vette had already lapsed into her morning sulk. 

'Here is everything I've been able to gather on Rathari's stronghold, my lord. He's based in the Network Access section of the moon, in his own compound - not in the Imperial staging area. The schematics I've been able to pull for the area show one main point of entry onto the main street level, heavily guarded, and one rear entrance, still guarded but not as easy to access. It's likely further entrances exist, but I would need time and- probably physical access to find them.'

And time, Eirn reflected, was one thing she was not currently allowed to have.

'His security,' she added, 'the standard schematics show little about. Vette hasn't been able to get into the local networks - she says we'd need to be onsite. We do know that the company led by the late Captain Kligton was assigned to his personal command, and that his losses were heavy, but without knowing exact numbers it's hard to speculate-'

'Lieutenant,' Quinn interrupted, 'I'm not interested in speculation. What firm information _do_ we have?'

It wasn't an entirely unfair question - a lot of what she had to say was guesswork, but other than what Rathari had provided, they were fumbling around in the dark. Eirn had re-examined what seemed to be the salient parts of Setsyn's intel, but gleaned little of use - and with the slaver dead, their chances of getting access to her network seemed to be somewhere close to nil.

Eirn bit back a sigh though, and just called up another display on the holo - a three-dimensional map, this time, of the facility Rathari had pointed them towards.

'This is the most recent known layout of his stronghold, my lord, as pulled from the Imperial databanks. Rathari's personal chambers are on the topmost floor, and are the most heavily secured of the rooms. If he's taken refuge in his nest,' Eirn mused, 'Then the only exits are the windows, and it's a twelve storey drop down to street level.' Survivable by Force-attuned Sith, if they watched themselves; not so much by the likes of Dellocon.

Quinn said nothing, for a long moment - just studied the plans Eirn had called up, frowning to himself.

'Lieutenant,' he began, after a moment, 'I saw from your file you're trained in the use of personal stealth generators.'

Eirn winced a little at the accusation; she was, but subtlety was not her strong suit. 'I am, my lord,' she admitted - more surprised than anything, if she was honest, that he'd actually read her file. 'Though I've little field experience with them,' she added, rather more cautiously.

'Then you're about to get some,' Quinn replied, without missing a beat. 'Vette,' he added, getting himself a sharp look from the Twi'lek, 'You're certain you can get into his security?'

'I can try,' she replied, more than a little sourly. 'Just don't get pissy with me if it turns out that Lord Rat-hair actually sprang for something decent.'

'Alright,' Quinn began, apparently choosing to ignore that remark, 'This is what's going to happen-'

-

_No plan survives first contact with the enemy._

Rathari, of course, was prepared; Eirn was half disappointed that she and Vette were staying in stealth - half relieved that she was avoiding much of the fighting, and half convinced that Quinn was going to bite off more than he could chew on his own, and that she'd be incapable of salvaging the resulting mess by herself. The path of destruction that he cut was a credit to his Order, though, and Eirn had to admit that she was glad not to be in line of fire.

The plan was straightforward enough - Quinn banged down the front door, as unsubtle as every Sith who ever solved all their problems with a lightsaber. He made for a target, and for a distraction - was everything that Rathari seemed to want and expect, and intended to fulfill as many of those expectations as he could.

Eirn and Vette, meanwhile, took a slightly circuitous route - Eirn could only assume she was mostly there to keep an eye on Vette, though the stealth camo made the letter of that order somewhat difficult. Vette's task was simple, sort of - find and disable Rathari's security network, to ease Quinn's journey, and to get eyes on Rathari and his defector - to confirm they were onsite, if nothing else.

Eirn had to admit she was less than thrilled at going up against Imperial troops, and Rathari's were well-trained - whatever faults Kligton might have nursed, he was apparently the kind of leader who would be missed. All the more reason, Eirn supposed, not to add to the Imperial casualties, even if Vette wasn't thrilled at being instructed to use a tranq gun over her blasters.

'You know,' Vette muttered, stepping over a pair of dozing guards while Eirn moved them out of sight, 'This'd be much easier if we just killed them.'

Vette also lacked Eirn's reluctance to fight Imperials, though this came as absolutely no surprise. If anything, Eirn reflected, Vette probably relished the chance to lash out at _Imps_ , even if they'd never personally wronged her.

'Not going to happen,' Eirn replied - not unless it absolutely had to. With luck, this way they'd at least survive this - with Rathari dead, there'd be a chance whoever inherited his position didn't feel compelled to make examples of their failure. It was still an ugly compromise, but Eirn suspected she'd have to make a lot more of those before her service to Quinn was finished.

'Can you get into the local network from here?' she added, once the troops had been disarmed and restrained - glancing over to the station Vette was working at.

'Yea, yea,' Vette muttered, 'Keep your hair on. Keep an eye out, willya? This is way easier without Imps sticking their guns in my face.'

_'Ohl, Vette'Ari_. 

Eirn said nothing, though - just took up her position, reactivating her stealth generator and holding still while it came online. It unsettled her - the imperfect nature of _any_ stealth camouflage meant that an observant enemy might still realise she was there, and hiding herself from Sith was an impossibility without the Force. Still, Rathari would be focused on Quinn \- as, hopefully, would everyone else in this place.

'So, your Sithyness! Do you want the good news or the bad news first?' Vette was, over the comm, every inch as irreverent as she was in person, and Eirn couldn't help but wonder if the Twi'lek did it on purpose.

' _Vette_ ,' Quinn started, audibly irritated, even over the comm, ' _We don't have time for your games. I_ -'

'Good news,' Vette continued, barrelling over him, 'Lord Rat-hair and Agent Deadmeat are on the top floor, like Eir said. Bad news, everything up there's on a separate circuit. I can't disable anything from down here.'

' _Then stop wasting time, and get up there. I-_ ' Quinn started, continuing to be as irritated as he ever was, and barrelled over once again by the Twi'lek.

'Already on it, your grumpiness. Oh, and there's a guy behind yo- never mind. Later!'

-

Rathari's private offices were nothing if not impressive, and Eirn had to wonder how much of it he'd managed to siphon off some Imperial budget. He'd remodelled the top floor of his building entirely, turning a run-down office in Network Access into a penthouse suite that wouldn't have looked out of place in the Citadel district of Kaas city. The view was a little different, and Nar Shaddaa's air smelt somewhat worse than Kaas's, but that, she supposed, was hardly something that could be much helped.

Eirn and Vette's route brought them up the rear entrance, which opened into a service corridor that ran along the rear of the building - that opened into what Eirn assumed was a rec room for Rathari's personnel, and which contained several of them. His personal guard, if she had to guess - armoured, but relaxed, despite the Sith who was banging around the lower levels. None of them seemed to be on alert - they were all in various states of unarmoured, and mostly looked to be unarmed, too. 

'Security station's inside,' Eirn mused, quietly. 'If we-' she added, starting to look back to Vette.

Vette, of course, had already gone - and Eirn had an unpleasant feeling she knew where, too.

'Yeah,' the Twi'lek was saying, making a show of looking lost at Rathari's guards, 'I was looking for someone. I think he's called Agent Deadmeat?'

'Shit,' one of the guards immediately replied, 'She's with-'

He was cut off abruptly by Eirn's stunstick in his side, making a noise that was somewhere between surprised and pained as electricity and determination made short work of his conscious state. The others, to their credit, reacted immediately - one of them reaching to grab Vette, who had already moved, drawing her knife and plunging it into the closest exposed flesh she could find, sending him staggering back as she reached for her blaster, apparently more confident with a gun than her hands. Eirn, meanwhile, had moved onto her second target - her armour taking the brunt of a backhand swing that she powered through and responded to with a right hook that sent its recipient staggering backwards into the guardsman that Vette had finished, sending him sprawling into a graceless heap on the floor. Eirn didn't have any time to recover, though, as she was hit from behind - as she felt electricity course through her, care of a stunprod belonging to an unseen assailant. It paused as abruptly as it had started, though, and for a moment, the world continued to heave as she struggled to remain upright and coherent. The guard who'd stunned her was doubled over, gasping for breath - and then wasn't, as Eirn brought the butt of her rifle down on his head, leaving him a motionless heap on the floor.

For a long moment, there was almost silence - just Eirn attempting to catch her breath, and one of the guardsman groaning unhappily when Vette prodded them sharply with her boot.

'Vette,' Eirn started, 'Was that really-?'

'Necessary? No,' she replied, grinning to herself. 'Lighten up, Ell-Tee. Darth Stuffypants has enough no-fun for all of us.'

_Darth Stuffypants. Does she spend all her time thinking these up?_

Eirn just sighed to herself, leaving Vette to her work - before moving to deal with Rathari's men, restraining the ones that weren't dead and double-checking the ones that were. Once she'd done that, she turned her attention back to Vette, and to the security monitors - and the view they afforded her of the chambers beyond. It opened out, as she'd hoped, into Rathari's sanctum - the Sith was present, lounging on an extremely comfortable-looking recliner, while a man she recognised as Dellocon paced a hole in his plush carpet. There was no audio, but it was clear they were arguing - Dellocon paced with the nervous tension of a dead man, while Rathari lounged with the arrogance of a victorious Sith. Eirn knew better than to assume the outcome of this - Quinn was nowhere to be seen, though this was just a matter of time.

(' _Alright_ ,' she heard Vette, over the comm, ' _We're all good up here. Lord Rat-hair and his buddy are all alone._ ')

Not that Quinn needed to be told once, never mind twice - and not, of course, that he bothered to thank the Twi'lek. 

'Hey, Eir,' Vette started, 'Are we gonna put Agent Deadmeat out of his misery? Or you leaving him for the boss?'

'I think I'd rather let him stew,' Eirn mused, before looking over to Vette - who had apparently found herself a starfruit, and was working her way through it. 'Vette,' she added, 'Where did you-?'

'It was on the table,' she replied, shrugging. 'No point letting good fruit go to waste.'

Which was a valid point, even if Eirn was certain it also missed the mark somewhat. She just ended up sighing, though - turning her attention to the security feeds, and watching as Quinn finally showed up.

'Vette,' Eirn started - readying her rifle, at that, 'Be ready to move.'

'What? It's not like we'd make any difference. If his Imperial Stroppiness can't kill Rat-hair, we sure as hell can't.'

Which, as much as it annoyed Eirn, was entirely correct - though she doubted Quinn would see it that way. 

'That,' Eirn sighed, 'Is not the point.'

The doors to Rathari's sanctum hissing open got Eirn's attention, of course; her hand was straight on her rifle, and it took her a moment to realise that they weren't the ones in immediate danger.

'My personal guard,' Rathari was preening, 'Trained to deal with Sith, of course. Captain Kligton was a fine soldier,' he added, 'But these men are more than your match, _apprentice_.'

Quinn, though, was utterly unfazed even before Rathari's guard failed to materialise; one of them tried to stir, and just groaned when Vette kicked him in the stomach.

'I think,' Eirn mused, 'That's our cue.'

'Fine,' Vette grumbled, picking up the final piece of starfruit, and giving Rathari's guardsman another blow to his stomach for good measure. Apparently, when it came to Imps, the Twi'lek had something of a sadistic streak, and Eirn had to wonder just how much danger she was in of attracting that sort of attention. It was a concern which would have to wait, though - duty called.

'I- you're not-' Rathari started, visibly thrown when she entered.

'My lords,' Eirn just replied, offering a demure bow. 'Forgive me, my lord,' she added, addressing Quinn. 'Vette and I ran into a few issues, though it was nothing we couldn't handle.'

'Truly elite,' Quinn mused, 'To have been taken out by- what was it you called my Lieutenant?' he added, looking to Rathari.

'A runt, my lord,' Eirn replied, before Rathari could get there. The word never stopped smarting - never stopped carrying the threat of being stripped of her citizenship, of being reduced to nothing but an exotic curiosity - but when she said it then, it was a weapon that only she could wield, and the snarl in Rathari's expression was very almost worth it. 'Though in fairness, my lord,' she mused, 'I also had Vette with me.'

'You,' Rathari growled, 'Will suffer as no other-'

Quinn, though, didn't give him a chance to finish that - had lit his saber and closed the gap between the two of them, forcing the older Sith to light his own saber to defend himself. Eirn's attention, though, was all on Dellocon - who, apparently valuing his own hide, had taken one look at Eirn blocking one way out and attempted to sprint for the main entrance. Eirn firing at the entrance put a halt to that idea, and Dellocon disappeared behind the first solid object he could put between himself and the rest of the room - the recliner Rathari had been lounging around on, as it happened, itself hardly the best cover in the room. Eirn's focus was all on him - and avoiding the Sith battling in the centre of the room, her rifle levelled first at his hiding place and then, when she'd rounded on him, the man himself.

'Agent,' she began, 'Listen to me-'

'Oh, don't you start as well,' Dellocon snarled - swiping at her with his vibroknife the moment that the barrel of her rifle wasn't in his face, and put out when Eirn not just dodged his blow but caught his arm mid swing, twisting it sharply until the man screamed and his knife clattered to the ground. It didn't take much from there to get the agent on his knees, his arm twisted painfully behind his back; Dellocon might theoretically have been a soldier and a spy, but Eirn got the feeling he'd spent more time battling red tape than anything else. 

He was defiant with it, though - glared at Eirn as though he held her as responsible for this as Quinn - or Baras, for that matter. When he spoke, though, his tone was far more bitter than it was anything else - laced with acid, and wrapped in barbed wire.

'Take my advice, girl. Get away from Baras and his insanity before it's too late. That goes for his apprentices, too.'

The only response Eirn could manage to that was an ugly laugh, which Dellocon did not appreciate.

'I mean it,' he growled, as she restrained him. 'Sith like him will be the death of us all. You'd be better off with the _Republic_ -'

'Call me a traitor again,' Eirn replied, 'And I'll make you wish Lord Baras was here to finish the job himself.'

She glanced across to Quinn, at that - who was still dealing with Rathari, the older Sith proving to be at least a match for the younger one. Quinn had youth on his side, but Rathari had experience - lacked Girik's arrogant theatrics, or the Jedi's self-righteous zeal. When their sabers clashed it was with desperation as much as anything else and for a moment, Eirn wondered if Quinn _hadn't_ bitten off more than he could chew. Vette certainly seemed unfazed, and had perched herself on Rathari's desk as she waiting for the Sith to settle their duel - had helped herself to his fruit bowl, eating ziiberries and dropping the pips into the depths of his carpet.

('I told him this was a terrible idea,' Dellocon grumbled, as though anyone in creation cared except for him)

Today, though, youth won out over experience, Rathari having gambled far too much on not having to face Quinn; he was unarmoured, wearing only robes - a fact that Quinn took full advantage of, his blade nipping at the older Sith's flesh every chance it got. It wore on him, too - his failures, his losses, the fact he was backed into a corner by a whelp, and his mistakes and misjudgements caught up to him as inevitably as the Force had eaten away at his flesh. When he yielded, though - and attempted to pledge allegiance to Quinn, of all things - Eirn had to admit she was surprised. Sith were proud, vain creatures, rarely given over to admitting defeats and errors of judgement, and that Rathari considered his life more valuable than his pride was simultaneously surprising and concerning.

'I see now,' the older Sith wheezed from the standstill Quinn had forced him to, 'You will be the end of your Master, not I. I would be honoured, my lord,' he added, 'If you would grant me mercy, and allow me some small hand in it.'

Quinn, though, was having none of it. 'The only honour you've earned,' he replied, not even attempting to hide the derision in his tone, 'Is a quick death.'

If Rathari had any response to that, he didn't get a chance to make it - his head severed neatly from his body, rolling several inches before finally coming to an unceremonial halt, blood seeping into his carpet where the cauterisation was uneven. Vette pulled a disgusted face, but finally hopped off the desk at that - helping herself to some more of Rathari's fruit, and stuffing it into her pockets.

'What are you waiting for, Lieutenant?' Quinn snapped, his attention all of her - his saber, for the moment, still drawn and lit.

Eirn winced, but refused to be cowed; Sith riding high on adrenaline were frequently rattier than normal, and Quinn was apparently no exception. 

'Forgive me, my lord,' she replied, 'I simply assumed you wished to carry out the task yourself.'

Not that she was convinced that Dellocon's death was even necessary, but she knew better than to argue the point; Baras's orders had been explicit, and while Eirn had done a great many stupid things in her life, she was at least intelligent enough to know that Baras took insubordination and failure poorly.

'You're both idiots,' Dellocon muttered, glaring at the both of them - defiant, apparently, to the very end.

Quinn, though, had apparently run out of his tolerance for parley, and those ended up being Dellocon's final words. He grasped Dellocon's head with the Force and twisted it sharply, evidently unwilling to grace Baras's traitor with a beheading. Eirn winced at the sound his neck made - a snap that made her own neck twinge in unwanted empathy, but was content, at that, to release his corpse from the hold she'd had it in.

'Gross,' Vette muttered - though what it was she was passing judgement on, exactly, was an unknown.

(Vette, of course, was still eating her stolen fruit; in the confines of her helmet, Eirn rolled her eyes, but said nothing)

There was little left in Rathari's offices worth noting; Vette, once the fighting was over, kept to herself, stuffing her hands in her pockets and sullenly kicking at Rathari's far-too-expensive, recently bloodied, carpeting.

Eirn had to admit that she was surprised that Baras had not requested some trophy; he'd always had his apprentices bring back limbs or sabers when she'd been on Kaas, and that was assuming he hadn't requested his quarry be brought to him for interrogation. Still, this was not a complaint - such things tended to be messy, and Eirn didn't like to think of the logistics of storing and transporting a pair of heads - cauterised or not. (Besides, she supposed, bodies left their own message \- one she was grateful, at that, she wouldn't have to be the one to decipher)

'Orders, my lord?' Eirn just asked, cautiously - not all Sith took being prompted for instruction well, but Quinn had responded not-unfavourably to it previously.

'We're done here,' Quinn replied sharply, turning to leave. 'On our return to the ship,' he added, 'I want a full report ready for submission to Lord Baras before lights-out.'

Which gave her far too little time to get it done than she'd have wanted, but Eirn knew better than to argue with Sith coming down from adrenaline.

-

Quinn, of course, refused Eirn's attempts at medical attention; Rathari had given him no lasting injury that her scanner could pick up, but he was every inch as ratty and reclusive, on their return, as he ever was. Vette, at the very least, agreed to holding still for long enough for Eirn to see to the minor burns and scrapes she'd acquired during their own infiltration; Eirn, during her quick shower, just winced when she caught the last remains of her back bruising in the mirror, and resolved to see to her own lingering problems just as soon as Quinn's report was seen to. 

-

One trip to the galley for a pot of caf-substitute later, Eirn was in the conference room - tidying up her mission notes and wondering if this meant her probation was over, or if Quinn still considered her to be enough of an untested unknown that she could still get easy reassignment to Hoth.

'Watcha doin?'

Eirn levelled a long and slightly wary look at Vette, who was standing in the doorway, clutching what looked like the remains of a pomfruit in one hand.

'Writing up the mission report for Lord Baras,' she replied, after a moment, before returning her attention to the datapad. 

Not that she expected either he or Quinn would bother to read it closely, but that was a little beside the point. Administrative support was definitely one of the _less_ glamorous aspects of being on retainer to a Sith. Still, it was better than executing people for doing their jobs. 

'Doesn't our great and mighty leader do those?' Vette replied, pulling a face.

'Lord Quinn's time is too important to be spent on such things,' Eirn replied, not looking up from her work for a moment. She had a hard time imagining Vette dealing with Imperial administrative work - presumably Quinn had written any prior reports himself, but that was what _Eirn_ was for, now.

'Urgh,' Vette just replied, slumping into the seat opposite Eirn. 'Didn't I warn you about not encouraging his Sithy ideas?'

'He is _Sith_ , Vette,' Eirn replied, slightly absent-mindedly.

'Exactly,' Vette replied, chewing loudly on her fruit. 'Why'd you ask Lord Moodswings for a job, anyway? This gig _sucks_. You had a sweet office, your own private _barracks_ for kriff's sake...'

'Balmorra was boring,' Eirn replied, 'And lonely. Most postings I could have requested would just be in the one place,' she added, 'And... I want to travel.' There were other reasons, but she kept those to herself; besides which, all of what she'd just said was entirely true.

'You want to travel,' Vette repeated, not sounding convinced in the slightest, 'So you join the military?'

Eirn laughed at that. 'I'm an Imperial,' she replied, 'Joining the military is compulsory. The only way to get out of it is to be dead, mad, or Sith.'

'But you _are_ a Sith,' Vette replied, not letting it drop. 'I mean, you're all red and pointy, even if you're not very _grr_.'

'I am all red and pointy,' Eirn replied, glancing across at the Twi'lek, before looking back to her report. 'But I can't use the Force, which is all anyone in the Empire cares about.' 

Which came out slightly more bitter than she'd intended, especially given her current location \- but it was the truth, or as close to it as mattered.

'Oh,' Vette just replied, at that - pulling a face, but apparently content to let the subject drop. 'Well, at least you're not completely boring.'

'Thanks?' Eirn replied, not certain if that was an insult or a compliment or, somehow, both. It definitely felt like both; a jibe at the ways she _was_ boring - by which, she could only assume, Vette mostly meant _Imperial_.

'Welcome,' Vette replied blithely, before noisily taking another bite out of her fruit. Eirn wasn't even certain where she'd gotten the thing; certainly, there was no fresh fruit in the galley stores, and she had wondered if this was by design or simple lack of opportunity. It was a topic she'd resolved to raise with Quinn at some point, but Vette's current snacking presented itself as a more immediate concern.

'Did you take that,' Eirn asked, wondering if she was going to regret this, 'From Lord Rathari's offices?'

'Maybe,' Vette replied, shrugging. 'S'not like he's gonna be eating anything. Really,' she added, 'It'd just be wasted otherwise.'

Which Eirn had to admit made sense, even if it failed entirely to address the larger issue.

'Did you take anything else that I should know about?' Eirn added, warily - Emperor only knew what Rathari might have had lying around, and Vette- well, she'd made it clear that while she might follow the letter of some of Quinn's orders, she wanted as little to do with the spirit of them as possible.

'Nope,' Vette replied, grinning to herself in a manner that promised nothing reassuring.

Well, at least this assignment wasn't going to be boring.

-

Quinn was apparently expecting her, because when she went to knock on his door, it hissed open - leaving her standing there, feeling just as mildly stupid as before. Quinn wasn't standing in the doorway, this time, though - was sat at his desk across the room, apparently absorbed in something on one of his own datapads.

'Come in, Lieutenant.' He also didn't bother to look up from his desk, and Eirn couldn't help but feel snubbed all the same.

Eirn still hesitated for a split second before finally gingerly stepping over the threshold, and was not reassured in the slightest when the door hissed closed behind her. She wasn't entirely certain what she'd expected Quinn's quarters to look like - hadn't given it any thought, if she was honest, and hadn't particularly cared to. She knew that Sith decor tended to be as individual as Sith themselves; her mother's shelves were covered with trinkets from her travels and excavations, and her sister had painted her bedroom walls black when she was ten (and then hot pink when she was fifteen). 

Quinn's quarters, though, were utterly spartan, and barely personalised - if there was protective plastifilm to still be found anywhere on this ship, Eirn would bet her last grubby credits it would be somewhere in here. His bed would have made all but the pickiest drill inspector proud, his walls were bare, and his shelving didn't look as though it even had dust on it. The closest thing to a sign of life was an empty caf mug, abandoned on his otherwise bare nightstand. 

'You wanted something?' Quinn added, looking across to her, and for a moment, Eirn wondered if he even remembered his own orders.

'The, uh, Mission report, my lord,' she managed, before offering him the datapad.

'Already?' Quinn finally stood, at that, closing the distance between them - took the offered datapad, glancing over its screen, scrolling through her report, which she'd left for him to authorise and finalise. He moved, Eirn couldn't fail to notice, at least a little gingerly - had dressed in robes which were almost certainly bulky enough to hide any blossoming swelling and bruising, but without her scanner - and without Quinn's assent to her treating him - there wasn't much that she could do about that, for now.

There were advantages, Eirn knew, to documenting as she went along; there were probably still some rough edges, but Quinn's orders had been explicit. Still, she wasn't sure she liked his surprise at her obedience - and wasn't unconcerned, on that note, that she hadn't gone and set herself another impossible standard. 

'Thank you, Lieutenant,' he added, a little absently - clearly distracted, though Eirn didn't like to speculate about what by. 

There wasn't much she could say to that - just offered him a small bow of her head, and hoped she could be dismissed in short order. She couldn't help but want to bolt, not least _because_ of the room's impersonality; Eirn had slept in lean-tos that had been more homey, but it wasn't just that. 

Her barracks on Balmorra had been impersonal because they'd been military, and for all that she'd been officially under Baras's direct command, she'd also had the regular chain of command to answer to. Sith, though, did not have barracks inspections, and for a Sith to have as personality-less a room as Quinn's suggested two things to her: either he didn't have a personality, or that the one he did have was so repulsive he felt the need to hide it even from other Sith - not that Eirn considered herself in that category, not truly. Either way, it was not a warren down which Eirn wanted to travel - even hovering near the entrance was unsettling, and every one of her instincts wanted her to do nothing short of bailing, immediately.

'Agent Dellocon's execution bothered you,' Quinn added, extremely nonchalantly - so much so that Eirn wasn't even certain what he'd said, at first.

'Mine is not to reason why, my lord,' Eirn just replied - leaving the second half of that truism unspoken, and resolving to work more on clouding her thoughts and aura. Clearly her time on Balmorra had served her poorly when it came to dealing with Sith in the flesh; it was easy enough to force a facial expression over the holo, but she was obviously out of practice in forcing her subconscious expressions to follow suit.

Her remark made Quinn snort, though she wasn't entirely certain _why_ \- whether he was more amused, annoyed, or simply breaking the unpleasant silence. He did finally look back to _her_ , though, studying her for a long, unpleasant moment. 'If I wanted an unthinking automata, Lieutenant, I would take the droid.'

Which wasn't entirely a compliment, but Eirn decided not to dwell on that for now.

'I- permission to speak freely, my lord?' Eirn started, glancing hesitantly at Quinn and half expecting to be told to shut up. He hadn't seemed thrilled by her concerns the last time she'd raised them, and - given that all that remained of the man was his death certificate - she was quite certain that he'd consider them all the more irrelevant now.

Quinn nodded, though, to her surprise - studying her warily, all the while, but nodded all the same. 'For now, Lieutenant.'

Which was just as reassuring as it had been the last time he'd given her that permission, and Eirn couldn't help but continue to feel unsafe in her assertions. Still, she couldn't very well back out now, so she took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

'What he said, when you confronted Lord Rathari - he believed his cover intact, and- I don't wish to question Lord Baras's orders, my lord, I just-' she was questioning them anyway. Dellocon had seemed quite convinced of his position, and for all that Eirn was not a spy, she knew a thing or two about broken covers.

'Let me tell you something, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, after a moment. His tone was- not reproachful, perhaps, but certainly at least a little critical. 'Just over two months ago, on Dromund Kaas,' he continued, 'Lord Baras interrogated a Republic spy, who had been found poking into his affairs on Nar Shadaa. This spy had been turned on to Agent Dellocon's position by a Jedi informant - the same informant,' he added, 'Who had uncovered his spy on Balmorra, and who had passed that information along to the woman he had you tracking.'

'I see,' Eirn replied \- not certain how much of this she believed, but she was already far, _far_ out of her depth. Baras's conviction that his network on Balmorra was compromised had certainly come out of the blue, though the Jedi she'd been remotely stalking had been proof that it wasn't entirely without merit. That particular Jedi had been dealt with, though - she'd been handed off to Baras, and her attempts at transmitting whatever it was she'd found had been nipped in the bud. Eirn didn't like to dwell too much on what had happened to her from there, Jedi or not - but either way, she felt confident that, at the very least, the woman was no longer a threat.

'That is... reassuring to know, my lord,' she added - not so much at the hints of a larger Jedi plot, as that Baras's actions weren't entirely baseless. There was still the issue of his striking at a Dark Council representative, but that - Eirn hoped - was not her problem.

Quinn smiled a little to himself at her reply, and Eirn wasn't certain that he believed her - or that this would be the last she'd hear of it.

_Careful. You're getting as paranoid as the man himself._

'I understand your concern, Lieutenant,' Quinn added - not a confession she'd have expected to have heard from a Sith, 'But Lord Baras knows what he's doing. I trust his judgement, as should you.'

As if further proof were needed that Quinn was not from a Sith family. Eirn wondered for a moment if he truly felt that way, or if he was just making the appropriate noises for her benefit, and decided to err on the side of _Sith_.

'Of course, my lord,' she just replied, after a long moment - offering a faint, apologetic bow. 'Forgive my speaking out of turn.'

Quinn, to her surprise, disagreed. 'On the contrary, Lieutenant,' he replied, 'I appreciate your candour. I am not the kind of Sith who wants unthinking yes-men,' he mused, 'But... there is a time and a place for such speculations.'

Which was certainly a better reception than her misgivings had produced previously, and Eirn couldn't help but be put on her guard because of it. 'I will keep that in mind, my lord,' she just replied, making a note somewhere to keep as many future concerns to herself as she could.

'Tell me something, though,' Quinn added, barrelling away from that topic, 'You've been spending more time with her. Has Vette been behaving herself? Or is she still insisting on causing trouble?'

Eirn paused, at that \- froze, unable to feel like this wasn't a trap or test. Quinn knew- _must_ have worked out at least some of her feelings on Vette's status, even if she'd never made them explicit. At the very least, the collar seemed like an unnecessary cruelty; Vette could be exasperating, and Eirn was quite certain that harsher Sith than she - never mind than Quinn - would not have stood for a fraction of the Twi'lek's antics, but the closest she came to insubordination was a series of bad-tempered nicknames, of which Quinn was hardly the only recipient.

'As I understand it, my lord,' Eirn replied, carefully, 'Vette's duties all relate to work in the field. As far as I've been able to tell,' she mused, 'Vette has always performed well when called upon, and- when we're not in the field, she's done nothing that I've noticed to cause problems.'

Granted, Vette's main contributions outside of the field seemed to be eating, and providing illegal background music, even if neither of these were qualities that Eirn had much room to criticise her for. 

Quinn, as she spoke, just studied her, that penetrating, analytical gaze never leaving her for a moment. For all she hated it, Eirn just did her best to keep her own expression deferential - especially, all things considered, the sterile privacy of this setting.

'I see,' Quinn just mused, not giving anything away. 'Was there anything else, Lieutenant?'

Eirn still wasn't certain she should say anything; if this ended up causing an argument, or worse, then she knew she could forget about ever gaining anything remotely approaching Vette's trust. On the other hand, if she didn't, and it turned out to lead to a bigger problem - or to be a test - then she could lose Quinn's, not to mention - perhaps most importantly - run a very real risk of making a Sith angry with her.

'She did- take some fruit from Lord Rathari's offices, my lord. She claims you were aware of this, but I just-' she paused - not even sure how to continue that sentence, or even if she wanted to.

'Fruit?' Quinn repeated - his expression flickering between irritated, annoyed, and mildly confused.

'Specifically, a pomfruit. I only noticed, my lord,' Eirn mused, 'Because we don't have a store of fresh fruit on the ship.' 

Which, she realised as she said it, sounded as much like a judgement on Quinn as it was an explanation of her logic, and Eirn immediately wished that she could rephrase herself. She didn't get that opportunity, though - Quinn jumped right in.

'And is this causing a problem, Lieutenant?' he asked - more than a little sharply, and Eirn couldn't help but feel he'd taken her remark as a personal criticism as much as anything.

'No, my lord,' Eirn replied, extremely cautiously. 'I simply- wanted to make sure you were aware.'

Or he could become angry with her for sharing such pointless information. An angle Eirn hadn't considered; Quinn was _Baras_ 's apprentice, after all, and Baras a man who craved all possible information only slightly more than he craved oxygen. Quinn, though - Quinn wasn't Baras, and Eirn realised that operating on the assumption that Quinn _was_ Baras wasn't a tactic that was going to get her very far.

'I see,' Quinn replied, lapsing back into studying her as though she were an insect pinned under his microscope. 'I was,' he added, after a long moment, 'But thank you for your diligence, Lieutenant.'

A test, then. Which she'd passed? Maybe? Eirn found it difficult to be relieved, especially given the way Quinn was still scrutinising her. Perhaps there was something else she should have said, or noticed, and Eirn knew she was going to be picking over this for her fuckups for some time.

'I'm just trying to do my job, my lord,' she demurred; not even sure which of her duties that ratting on Vette's sticky fingers apparently fell under, but certain Quinn felt at least a little differently to she on this matter.

'Was there anything else that you wanted to bring to my attention, Lieutenant?' Quinn added - not harshly, necessarily, but definitely sounding like he wanted this conversation over almost as much as she did.

Several things, but Eirn felt confident about raising exactly none of them. 'Nothing pressing, my lord,' she replied; he'd already refused medical attention once, and the longer this went on, the more she wanted it to be over so she could go to bed.

'Very well. In that case,' Quinn mused, 'You are dismissed, Lieutenant. Thank you for getting the report to me so promptly. Tomorrow,' he added, 'We can return to civilised space.'

By which, Eirn supposed, he meant the Empire - meant, she realised, Dromund Kaas, and Eirn decided not to dwell on this fact while in such close proximity to him.

'Thank you. And- goodnight, my lord,' she just replied, offering Quinn a small, slight bow before she finally left - stepped outside into the relative freedom of the ship's small corridors once his door had hissed open, not sad to leave Quinn's domain in the slightest.

(When she heard the door close and lock behind her, she finally exhaled; said a silent prayer of gratitude to anything that happened to be listening in, and resolved never to disturb Quinn in his quarters ever again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! apologies for the long break, i've been having some health issues lately which have made writing difficult.
> 
> as always, i appreciate any and all feedback. if you don't want to leave a comment here, i can be contacted at badsithnocookie.tumblr.com :)


	6. Chapter 6

Eirnhaya didn't have face Quinn again until he appeared while she was eating her breakfast the next morning - sitting at the conference room table, working her way through waffles and Imperial caf-substitute, half listening to a newscast on her holo, and half listlessly composing emails on her personal datapad. 

_yes dad this means im off balmorra. i dont know how much more i can tell you though sorry! say hi to aunty vo for me??_

He took the seat opposite her - had his own caf, at the very least, not that there was spare here for him to steal. 'Lieutenant,' he greeted her - not waiting, naturally, for an invitation to join her. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, my lord,' Eirn managed - aware, somewhere in the back of her head, that the correct salutation would have involved jumping to her feet and offering him a bow, and probably her caf, but feeling too tired to do anything more involved than muting the newscast, and offering him a faint bow of her head.

Quinn bothering her while she was eating was new, and Eirn had to wonder if she'd done anything particular to earn this - thought about Vette's grumbling previously (noted that he wasn't eating, himself), and wondered if she'd somehow managed to do something _wrong_ (had she left out something in her report? Or failed to attend to some vital task?). He didn't seem to be in a poor temper, though; wasn't quite as spry as he'd been on her first morning, but wasn't starting the day in a foul mood, either. _Yet_.

'I'm a little surprised to find you alone,' Quinn mused - glancing along the length of the table, of which she was the only other occupant. 'Vette isn't up?'

'Vette was still in her bunk when I left quarters, my lord,' Eirn replied - the Twi'lek had stuck a hand out from behind her privacy curtain for long enough to make a rude gesture \- and then again for long enough to retrieve the mug of caf-substitute that Eirn offered her - but otherwise had showed no sign of wanting to emerge from her bunk. 

'I see,' Quinn sighed \- more resigned than anything.

Eirn had to admit that part of her was glad Vette wasn't there; she and Quinn seemed to have deleterious effects on each other's moods, even as Eirn's sympathies tended more towards the Twi'lek than the Sith. That attitude alone wouldn't have done his opinion of either of them any good, though, which was why she kept it as close to herself as she could.

'I suppose I shouldn't be surprised,' he added, scowling a little as he fiddled with his mug. 'She will take any opportunity she can to abandon proper discipline.'

Eirn could only assume by that, he meant _Imperial_ discipline - though how much of that meant military and how much meant Sith was a question that she didn't want to investigate. Quinn, she knew from his medical records, had a military family, but she also knew that this didn't necessarily mean a thing when it came to Sith attitudes towards the same.

'Lord Baras's goals here may be accomplished, my lord,' Eirn simply mused, 'but the Emperor's work is never finished.'

Exactly the sort of kiss-up response she despised, and here she was, making it with an entirely straight face. _What have you become, Illte._

'Precisely,' Quinn replied, though - apparently genuinely, and for a long moment, Eirn wasn't entirely uncertain he wasn't making fun of her.

'I won't be sorry to put this place behind us,' he added, though - wrinkling his nose faintly in disgust. 'As soon as you're finished here, Lieutenant, I want pre-flight checks done and a plan filed with the authorities. We depart as soon as possible.'

Eirn couldn't help but feel a little disappointed by that; for all that Nar Shaddaa smelled distinctly... _distinct_ , she'd still rather been hoping for an opportunity to have a nose around the Promenade's markets, or one of the more Imperial-friendly districts. Traipsing around after Quinn on Baras's missions was one thing, but being able to take in the sights and atmosphere was quite another, even if much of Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere probably needed a hazmat suit. Orders were orders, though, and Eirn was acutely aware that she was far too new and Quinn was far too Sith for her to be raising objections because she wanted to go sightseeing.

'Of course, my lord,' she replied, starting to make notes on her datapad. 'Where to?'

'Vaiken Station,' he replied, 'For resupply. I don't trust the Hutts to give us a fair price, and Imperial suppliers out here have their own concerns to attend to.'

Eirn couldn't say she blamed Quinn for that; while the Hutts would honour a business deal, they were businessmen (business-slugs?) first and foremost, and their markets were far freer than anything that the Empire allowed. Advantageous for business owners, perhaps, but not for the Imperial military - and certainly not for Sith, whom Eirn was quite certain despised anything that didn't weight the odds in their favour.

'Of course, my lord,' she just repeated - the route from here to Vaiken was well mapped and travelled, if nothing else. The droid could have managed it, at a push, and for a moment, Eirn wondered if - prior to her taking this assignment - it ever had.

'After that,' Quinn mused, half to himself, 'Will be dependent on what Lord Baras requires.'

Baras. Eirn fought back a grimace at the thought of seeing him in person again; she'd always found it difficult to shield her mind from him, and she doubted that her time on Balmorra would have helped her skills there any. The moment he suspected she wanted permanently out from under his thumb was the moment he ordered Quinn to boot her out the airlock; one reason among thousands she wanted to build a rapport with Quinn _before_ that happened, as impossible a task as that frequently seemed.

Apparently she hadn't been successful in keeping that reaction entirely to herself, though, because Quinn's own expression twitched - with something, for now, that looked to be curious amusement. 'Something the matter, Lieutenant?'

For a split second, she considered denying it - of pretending that all was right with the world, and that she was thrilled at the thought of Baras and all that implied. After that second, though, she felt her jaw tendrils try to twitch nervously - caught the edge of Quinn's critical, analytical gaze and realised that lying, in this instance, wasn't much of an option at all.

'I'm just- not very fond of Dromund Kaas, my lord,' Eirn replied - the truth, technically. 'I- the weather,' she added, at his dubious expression.

'I sincerely hope, Lieutenant,' Quinn mused - his expression, for now, one that suggested he was as cautiously amused as anything else, 'That you're not about to start complaining about the rain.'

Quinn himself was Kaasi, of course; his accent gave that much away, even if his was more nasal than most Kaasi Sith she remembered. His medical file went into a little more detail on his background, but Eirn hadn't paid much of it attention, other than for her insecurities to latch onto his heritage - eight generations without a single Force-sensitive, never mind a Sith - and resent it, along with everything else they growled about.

'It's not the rain, my lord,' she managed, grateful for how far from human Sith this conversation was drifting, 'But the humidity. I'm- Red Sith,' she sighed, 'Don't do well in it.' 

Kaas had its own Red Sith population, of course; several of the noble houses had their seats around Kaas City, statements of allegiance to the reconstituted Empire, but they were invariably air-conditioned and, for the most part, all but uninhabited during the wet seasons.

'But you did your training on Kaas,' Quinn mused, frowning a little to himself at the thought. It took Eirn a moment to remember that Quinn claimed to have read her own file - and, apparently, even remembered things from it.

'I attended university on Kaas, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'and my training unit fed into the Kaasi officer school.' It had been less hassle than applying for another transfer - besides which, Eirn doubted that it would have been approved by the relevant authorities.

'I see,' Quinn just mused, continuing to study her all the while. 'I take it, then,' he added, 'that Balmorra was more to your liking?'

Eirn had to wonder if Quinn was going somewhere with this - or if this was just his idea of breakfast table small talk. Which, granted, was a good deal less terrible than what some of her superiors had considered civilised conversation at this hour. Still, it left her feeling like she was being measured against some invisible standard - and failing quite entirely to meet it.

'Balmorra was... drier, my lord,' Eirn replied - though just as temperate, according to all the planetary statistics. Still, for all its faults, Sobrik hadn't been located in nearly as tropical a clime as Kaas City was. 'Even when it was hot, I found it easier to deal with.'

'Oh, Goddess. Are you goobers seriously talking about _weather_?' Vette, of course, still sounded half asleep - was clutching her now-empty caf mug as she stood in the doorway, giving the two Sith what Eirn could only assume was supposed to be highly judgemental look.

'Good morning, Vette,' Eirn just replied - unable to entirely repress a slightly embarrassed smile. It was a ridiculous conversation, even if she was quite certain Quinn wasn't going to take the interruption well.

'Vette,' Quinn added, shooting the Twi'lek an extremely dark look. 'Don't you have anything better to be doing?'

'Sure I do,' Vette replied, not missing a beat. 'Loads of things. If you took the collar off and let me go, I could go do them, too.'

Eirn had to admit that she found it hard to criticise Vette for that, even as it made her wince; part of her envied the Twi'lek's brass, though she was certain that it would do nothing to endear her to Quinn. 

'Lieutenant,' Quinn just scowled, mostly seeming to try and choose to ignore that remark. 'There was something I wanted to ask you. You recall our conversation about your... saber training?'

('Fine,' Vette harrumphed, sloping off - yawning loudly to herself as she went)

She did - though she'd rather been hoping that he didn't, or that at the very least, he'd rethought his request. Apparently she was out of luck, though - and the look he was giving her (a sort of cautious hopefulness, tainted by lingering irritation with Vette's... _Vette_ ) was doing nothing to set her at ease.

'I do, my lord,' Eirn replied - wondering, for a moment, if he'd realised she really didn't want to spar, and was deriving at least some of his entertainment from the fact he knew she was stuck. She certainly wasn't going out of her way to hide her lack of enthusiasm; she'd wondered more than once if she could get out of this while somehow still saving face. The only conclusion she'd been able to draw, though, was that the only way that would happen was if Quinn had somehow, miraculously, forgotten about it altogether.

'Well,' Quinn replied, far too intrigued for this to end any way but poorly, 'It's not every day I'm able to spar for the sake of sparring. Besides,' he added, 'I've never met somebody- like yourself, with training.'

( _you're a freak_ , her insecurities hummed, _and even he thinks it_ )

Which was exactly the sort of reply Eirn had been afraid of - especially, all things considered, the faint anticipatory amusement in Quinn's expression.

'When did you want to spar, my lord?' she just ground out - how long did she have to prepare the kolto tank she'd need afterwards, and was there any possibility that the Republic could be counted on to do something to spare her from this.

'Once we're on our way to Vaiken, perhaps,' Quinn suggested, far too smoothly for this to be a recent idea.

_He's been working up to this_ , Eirn realised - simultaneously annoyed that Quinn had spent so much time building up to something she wanted to avoid, disappointed that he apparently didn't want to talk to her for the sake of talking to her, and relieved that this probably meant he'd go back to letting her eat breakfast alone in the future. _Assuming, of course, there are future breakfasts to be eaten._

'Of course, my lord,' she just replied, though - there weren't any reasonable objections she could make, and- well, if she was being honest, part of her was just too stubborn to back down. It was the same part of her that she was going to hate, later - the same part of her that had gotten her thrown across Baras's offices, or arrested any number of times for standing up for herself, and the same part of her that would always make her stand back up afterwards to throw another punch.

'We're to use training sabers, I hope, though, my lord?' she added, a little warily. It had been a long time since she'd fought another person with any kind of saber, but longer still since she'd fought using anything but a practice one - and she _really_ didn't relish the thought of facing Quinn's lightsaber.

'Of course, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, entirely unruffled. 'It would hardly do to cause you serious injury.'

Which as insults went was definitely one of the blunter ones he'd made, and Eirn found it impossible to remove all of the offended twitch from her expression. 'Your concern is touching, my lord,' she just replied - not even attempting to hide her irritation.

(His sureness that if anyone was injured, it would be her; her resignation to the fact that he was probably right, and her lingering conviction that she should just have pretended she was as untrained as every other officer that was chewed up and spat out by Sith)

He at least had the decency to pick up on some of that irritation - his own expression twitching unreadably, before settling back into its habitual detached scrutiny.

'Well,' he said, after a moment, 'I will leave you to your breakfast, Lieutenant. Notify me as soon as we're ready to depart. I want to be out of this system as soon as possible,' he added, moving to stand - as eager to hang around Nar Shaddaa, apparently, as she was to leave it.

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn sighed - not, of course, that he waited around for her to say it.

-

There were other reasons, of course, that she was not eager to spar with Quinn. Sith tended to be sore losers, and she was no exception - and she doubted Quinn was, either. Ba'al had been a sadist, and Baras hadn't exactly discouraged his apprentice, but Quinn was an unknown; watching him fight Girik and Rathari hadn't told her much she couldn't have worked out from his demeanour the rest of the time. She, though, was neither Girik nor Rathari; lacked their experience, their training, their stations - was a questionably bred runt, of the kind who shouldn't have survived her first birthday, never mind been in this kind of position.

'You do realise,' Vette said, as she watched Eirn doing the last of the pre-flight checks, 'That you're gonna end up in a tank again, right?'

Vette was eating, naturally; had appeared in the galley while Eirn was making herself fresh caf, and attempted to badger Eirn into making her breakfast. Eirn's response had been to place a wrapped ration bar in front of the Twi'lek, who'd pulled a face - put the ration bar back, and promptly searched the galley thoroughly until she found an unopened packet of dried ziiberries.

'Probably,' Eirn replied - but she'd already agreed to it, and her pride refused to allow her to back out. Besides, she reasoned, if she showed herself as valuable to Quinn, maybe he'd be more likely and willing to let her stick around. Maybe he'd even respect her. (Who was she kidding, he was a _Sith_ , and she was- well, she was still a runt, even if she was a runt who thought she knew how to fight).

( _Besides, if he sees you as a potential threat_ , her paranoia reminded her, _you won't last until your next paycheque._ )

'Well, good luck!' Vette added, oblivious to that thought. 'If you die,' she added, thoughtfully, 'Can I have your stuff?'

'I already have a will, Vette,' Eirn replied, half-absent-mindedly. Not that she had much worth leaving, but it was the thought that counted.

'So... that's a maybe?'

-

They were to spar, apparently, in the cargo bay - the largest open space in the ship. Eirn changed into her PT uniform, before making her way there - and, after some deliberation, a chestguard. Training sabers were designed to make serious injury with them more difficult - but Eirn knew from experience that this didn't preclude them being used for such, even accidentally - especially when they were wielded by a trained Sith.

(Her PT gear showed off her physique, something she always took a sort of quiet pride in; something normally hidden beneath her uniform, or beneath armour, but allowed - in this - to be exposed to the light of day. Strength - the raw, physical kind - wasn't something she'd ever aspired to, as a younger woman, but it had served her well as an adult, for a near-endless number of reasons)

Quinn noticed, too - his expression flickered, for a moment, though she wasn't certain what with. He was dressed in loose training robes - looked, for all the world, like an unassuming acolyte, though Eirn knew better to believe there was such a thing. The robes hid more than her uniform did, to her annoyance; they were both wearing the same protection, but she was more _exposed_ , even if there was nothing more intimate or vulnerable on display than the ridges on the outside of her arms. 

When he greeted her, though, he was as politely clipped as ever - a simple _Lieutenant_ , along with the offer of a training saber - grip first, which Eirn had to admit surprised her a little.

Quinn watched her as she took it, too - inspected her, scrutinising her grip - her stance, her movement (her flexing, blade in hand, as she got herself used to its weight). On the occasion she'd had time to practise her technique Balmorra, it had been against a target dummy, not a real person - Sith on Balmorra were rare, and Sith who didn't look at her as though she was- well, what she was, were rarer still.

The crates, such as they were, were kept stacked against the walls anyway - but extra care had been taken to make as much room for the duel as possible. Further proof, Eirn could only assume, that Quinn had been planning this for longer than his bringing it up over the breakfast table.

'You're familiar with Academy rules?' he added - glancing over her, again.

She was, though not in the way Quinn was - and probably, she realised at that, not the same Academy, either. Quinn was Baras's apprentice, after all, and the military drew in a different kind of Sith to her tutor.

'I don't know much about Academy life, my lord,' Eirn mused, though, deciding that this was not the time or place for that conversation. 'But if the stories I've heard are true, then I'd prefer not to risk dying.'

Quinn at least seemed to see the funny side - even if it was a joke predicated on the fact that she was going to lose. 'Best of three rounds,' he replied, 'Each decided by first contact or first blood. Of course,' he mused, 'I'd prefer not to injure you, but accidents do happen.'

The first _blood_ part made her wince involuntarily; wish she could still somehow get out of this, and feel all the more exposed for her lack of robes. Quinn's addendum didn't help in the slightest - for an endless number of reasons ( _a threat_ , her paranoia insisted, _a promise_ ).

'And- you won't be using the Force, my lord?' Eirn added, cautiously - and rather more bluntly than she'd wanted to, though Quinn was apparently loathe to bring the subject up himself.

All Quinn managed in response to that was another snort of something that wasn't quite laughter. 'It would hardly allow you a fair demonstration of your ability if I did, Lieutenant,' he replied, narrowing his gaze for an unpleasant moment.

'When you're ready, Lieutenant,' he added, taking up a position near the centre, but not assuming any stance just yet.

Eirn said nothing in response to that - just took her position across from him, before offering Quinn a bow. Across from her, he did the same, seeming at least as genuine in his salutation as Eirn was in hers.

For a long moment, neither of them struck at the other- each Sith studying their opponent, moving warily around each other in a wide circle, Quinn assuming a defensive stance that Eirn half-recognised as Soresu (half-recognised from having watched him with his lightsaber, and half-remembered always having had little trouble breaking, though that had been what felt like a lifetime ago).

Quinn, Eirn could only assume, wanted her to be the first one to attack - wanted to see what, if anything, she was capable of dishing out. She was acutely aware that she'd made a tactical error in telling him her form, but it was too late to worry about that. Besides, it wouldn't have taken him long to work it out - _shouldn't_ have, not if he was in any way competent. Shii-cho was the oldest, simplest form of saber combat; baby's first lightsaber stance, even if Eirn could have counted on one hand while making a rude gesture the number of times she'd held a real lightsaber.

His own blade was already held defensively - and for a long moment, Eirn considered simply assuming a defensive stance herself, drawing him out and forcing him to have to do the work - before reasoning that the sooner she attacked, the sooner this would be over. She braced herself, then - took a long, deep breath and lunged forward, closing the gap between them in half a moment, bringing her saber to bear on the other Sith. He blocked the swing, of course - had seen her coming, would have to be blind to have missed it, but it forced him into action and gave her the momentum. She knew the rotation he was using, too - had seen him use it when fighting with his lightsaber, a set of measured, balanced movements designed to shield as much of the user's body from offensive blows. She knew what he was going to do - where he was going to _be_ , and adjusted her strategy accordingly, letting herself be blocked and parried until the moment that she knew his rhythm would allow her to break it with her own. 

The blow didn't connect, though - it missed, hitting only empty air, and for a split second Eirn was convinced that Quinn had cheated ('cheated', as though that term even applied when Sith were involved)- and then she realised he hadn't been there to begin with, and had already pulled around to her open flank. When she pulled back, it was all but too late - Quinn's saber missed its intended target, but his blade still slapped her bare arm and she hissed in pain. It stung - would probably do more than sting when the adrenaline wore off, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the embarrassed irritation that blossomed from it.

'I believe,' Quinn said, his expression still remarkably composed 'That makes the first round mine, Lieutenant.'

There was no smile, no sadistic glee, but Eirn couldn't help but feel patronised all the same. If anything, the indifference irritated her all the more - that he didn't even consider her _worth_ glee - that his flattening her was as dull and routine as ration bars, and _that_ thought almost made her snarl.

Eirn didn't reply, though - and didn't let him recover, either, pushing her attack, immediately forcing him back onto the defensive. He blocked and dodged her every swing, the sabers clacking sharply as they clashed. He'd switched from Soresu, she realised \- had assumed a more offensive stance, and she couldn't afford to let him force her onto the back foot. 

Sith frequently underestimated her - assumed all sorts of things about runts and Force-blinds, and occasionally her in particular, and Quinn - well, he seemed no less prone to assuming things than any other Sith she'd met. She could use that, she realised \- an idea presenting itself in a split second, and one that might even work. She pressed ahead, forcing herself into every sliver of an opening she spotted, letting him parry her blows; making them just a little later than she had to, slowing her pace and feigning a fatigue that she fully expected him to take full advantage of.

It wasn't all an act; months - _years_ \- without a training partner, never mind real combat, had taken their toll on her technique. Quinn didn't seem to be using the Force, not consciously - though Eirn knew that without it, she had no way of knowing for certain - but he still had the advantages practice gave him, and they both knew it. All the more reason for her to score a hit as soon as she could - before she ran out of the focus and energy the fight would need. 

If Quinn had worked out what she was doing, he showed no sign of it - adjusting his rhythm to match and counter hers, blocking the swipes she made with her own saber and prodding at her defences with his own. It wasn't difficult to pull his focus out, setting up the act - the test was seeing if he'd fallen for it, and there was only one way to find out. She didn't recognise the stance he was using, but it was clearly an offensive one - lacked the defensiveness of Soresu or the adaptability of Shii-Cho, and the gaps in his defence were- exploitable in theory, at the very least.

She took the opportunity, then, darting into an opening she'd forced and scowling as Quinn reacted faster than she'd expected him to in turn, pulling back from where she'd tried to force her way through his defences before he used the opportunity to strike again at her. She recovered quickly, though, keeping up the offensive, forcing her way past the rhythm Quinn was trying to pull himself out of - more reckless now than she'd been before, feinting a blow he went to parry and darting into the gap it gave her, striking at him for real and grinning at the satisfying _thunk_ as her blade struck his chestguard.

(Her arm, where Quinn's blade had slapped it, was beginning to smart; there'd be a bruise there, later, and she wasn't looking forward to it)

'I believe,' Eirn managed, breathing hard from the exertion - and unable not to grin unpleasantly, even as she stepped back from him - putting distance between them that he'd have to close, 'That makes this round mine, my lord.'

(Eirn knew even as she said them she was going to pay for those words - but they were sweet, and so she savoured them)

Quinn's own expression twitched unreadably in response to that, before instantly flicking back to it usual stern, stoic mask. 'Then that,' he replied, his tone just as infuriatingly dispassionate as before, 'Makes this the decider, Lieutenant.'

'When you're ready, my lord,' Eirn replied, before she could stop herself - hating the part of her that had thought that was a good idea as soon as she said it, but stuck committing to it all the same.

Quinn's expression twitched again, at that - definitely irritated, and possibly something more than that, as he launched into his attack. He didn't hold back, either, forcing Eirn onto the defensive - what she'd expected, even as she suddenly felt horrendously underprepared. 

The fatigue, this time, was genuine - Quinn was pushing her, and Eirn knew she was going to pay for her words, if not in whatever Quinn ended up doing to her, then at some later point. Her focus, though, had to all be on him - on his saber, on his footwork - on the dancing out of reach of his blows, attempting to counter them and force his rhythm to break. That wasn't happening, though - if anything, Quinn stepped up his own attack, pushing her harder than he had been before. Eirn ended up conceding all her ground to keep out of his reach, repelling his attacks but failing to force an opportunity to make her own. She was getting sloppy, too - her sword arm was starting to hurt, her lack of regular practice catching up with her in short order, but that thought evaporated entirely as her feet ended up tangled up in each other and she tripped backwards, losing her balance and failing entirely to right herself as she fell. It happened quickly enough that she wasn't even sure what happened, precisely - just that she'd tripped over her own feet, landing awkwardly on one of her ankles and sprawling backwards as it disappeared out from under her, before the cargo bay floor introduced itself to her in an abrupt and somewhat painful manner - prompting a loud and rather heartfelt _FUCK_ that it took Eirn a moment to realise had come from her.

'Lieutenant! Are you alright?' Quinn, of course, noticed immediately - and was standing over her, hovering awkwardly in a manner that did nothing to make her feel any better about the situation.

Eirn was just sprawled, entirely gracelessly - blinking in surprise and pain, trying to work out what had just happened, and if she could somehow play dead until this humiliation went away.

'Uh,' she just managed - tried to at least sit and hissed as the ankle she'd landed on twinged unpleasantly.

It took Eirn a moment to realise that Quinn was offering her a hand up - which she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to accept, for any number of reasons. It would have been rude not to, though; besides which, most of her immediate concerns were invalidated when he failed to drop her, or her throw her across the cargo bay - or do anything, for that matter, but awkwardly help her get back to her feet. 

'Thank you, my lord,' Eirn managed, more than a little sheepishly - before adding, 'I suppose this makes that round yours, my lord.'

'Hardly,' Quinn replied - back to studying her, _scrutinising_ her. 'If you're able to continue...?'

Pressing any weight onto her ankle just made it start to twinge, though - made Eirn inhale sharply, despite her deeply ingrained aversion to announcing her weaknesses to the world.

'I- don't think so, my lord,' she admitted - shifting her weight onto her good foot, and trying to work out the logistics of making it to the medbay. 

'Very well,' Quinn replied, his gaze still flickering over her. 'We should get you to the medbay, Lieutenant. Come,' he added - offering her a hand, again and not satisfied, apparently, until she swallowed what little remained of her pride and took it.

Being supported by Quinn for the short trip to the medbay was a further embarrassment - Eirn acutely aware all the while that the Sith surely had better things to be doing - that she'd brought this on herself, that she deserved at least some part of this and that all that this was going to mean was Baras receiving an ever more comprehensive documentation of her failings. He wasn't content to leave her be, either - insisted, for reasons only known to himself, on making some attempt to assist her.

'My lord,' she started - her attention half on Quinn, half on gingerly removing the shoe on her injured foot, 'The diagnostic scanners are in the-'

'I know my way around the medbay, Lieutenant,' Quinn chided her - interrupted her, too, before handing her a scanner.

'Of- course. Sorry, my lord,' Eirn just mumbled - feeling more embarrassed by the moment, not just by her injury but by her behaviour during the duel - by her arrogance, as if she even had the right to it - and then lecturing Quinn on the layout of his own ship, and ( _Good job, Illte, you'll be kicked out by the end of the week-_ )

'It's- nothing serious, I hope?' Quinn added, as she ran the scanner over her ankle - his tone, his _expression_ , almost genuinely seeming one of concern. It was an illusion that Eirn had no desire to trust, even as she attempted to put that distrust out of her mind - at least until she didn't have the Sith scrutinising her in person.

'It's just a- bruised ligament, my lord. I'll have to keep my weight off it,' she added, 'But it should be fine in a few days. It's my own fault,' she sighed - she was out of practice, and had taunted Quinn far too harshly. Not just because of her inferior skills - but her inferior _status_ , the part of her which was painfully aware that she was an Imperial having been overridden by the arrogant part of her that insisted she was still Sith. 

( _See_ , she told herself, _I told you, you'd regret this._ )

'I see,' Quinn just replied - studying her again, for a long, critical moment. 'It's just as well, then,' he added, 'That we don't have an active assignment.'

'Of course. I apologise, my lord,' Eirn replied - mostly just wanting him to go so she could strap her ankle up and then go nurse her embarrassment somewhere more comfortable than here.

'Don't apologise, Lieutenant. It was an accident.' Not quite the response that she'd expected, and Eirn couldn't help but be put at unease because of it.

'You fought well,' he added - further unsettling her, if she was honest. 'Your form is... unpractised, but the foundation is solid. And- your reflexes are a little slow,' he mused, 'But that's hardly surprising, considering-' he added - pausing abruptly when he realised what he was saying.

'-Considering that I don't have the Force, my lord?' she finished for him, extremely dryly - and entirely joylessly. He'd probably meant it as a compliment, but that didn't stop it feeling like an insult.

_Put down the saber, girl, and stop playing at being Sith. The best you can hope for is to serve one who won't hold your freakishness against you._

'That's- well. Yes,' he replied, a little awkwardly. 'With more training, and a lightsaber, with the Force under your command... you could be a force to be reckoned with, Lieutenant,' he added - lapsing into a hypothetical that sounded like it was trying to be praise, but mostly just felt like a reminder that she was not Sith, and never would be.

Eirn just winced, and not at the pun, or even her injury; everything about this conversation was unpleasant, and she wished dearly that it could be over. 'With respect, my lord,' she replied, trying - and failing - to drain her reply of acid, 'I prefer to focus my thoughts on what I _am_ able to do.'

Which in the current moment mostly consisted of nursing her injuries, and wishing that she'd never claimed to have had any training at all. If he'd been attempting to humble her - well, he'd succeeded, not that he'd needed much help.

'Of- course, Lieutenant,' Quinn managed, fumbling with the words. He paused, studying her for a further moment - looking, for a split second, like he was contemplating something further in that vein, before apparently relenting. 'I will- leave you be, then. Take- whatever steps you need to recover, Lieutenant. I would prefer not to be without you in the field.'

Well, that was a step up from _pack your bags and be ready to go by the time we reach Vaiken_. Still, she couldn't help but feel like this was still going to reflect poorly on her, even beyond her self-recrimination.

'I will. And- thank you, my lord,' Eirn replied - grateful that he was leaving, more than anything, and she could nurse her injuries in peace.

-

Vette was in the crew quarters, of course; curled up on her own bunk, nursing a mug of caf and reading something on a datapad. She looked as Eirn entered, though - gave the Sith a dry, wary glance that slid into an amused smile when she spotted the crutch she was leaning on, never mind the bandage wrapped around Eirn's ankle.

'He kicked your ass, huh?' Vette didn't even try to hide the amusement in her tone, and Eirn rather suspected that she was being judged by the Twi'lek, to boot.

'He did,' she sighed; it wasn't an entirely accurate assessment, but it was close enough.

'Why'd you let him do it?' Vette asked, sitting up, but making no attempt to offer Eirn anything approaching assistance.

'I didn't _let_ him,' Eirn replied, irritably; she'd given as much as she could, but- short of using a Force suppressant on them, even the fairest Sith would have inbuilt advantages. And- well, the idea of a _fair Sith_ was so laughably ridiculous on its own that it was barely worth contemplating.

'You still fought him,' Vette replied, not letting it drop. 

'He is Sith,' Eirn just replied, as she opened her locker - started to fish through it for clean clothing and her washbag, intending to shower before they reached Vaiken, if nothing else. 'His wish is my command.' Slight hyperbole, but that was what it boiled down to.

'You Imps really will do _anything_ Sith ask?' Vette managed - her tone somewhere between horror, disgust, and, obscenely, awe.

'Not _anything_ ,' Eirn replied, slightly absently. Eirn didn't have much pride, but what she did she clung to fiercely, and Quinn- well, he didn't seemed the type to issue _that_ sort of command. (Then again, she mused, he hadn't seemed the type to rub her nose in her blindness, either)

Vette made some noise that Eirn assumed was cynical disapproval, but she ignored it.


	7. Chapter 7

The chance to visit the Vaiken marketplace was one that Eirnhaya didn't pass up, despite Quinn's edicts. She had a little shopping of her own to do; while she didn't make a habit of keeping personal caf or sweets, at least not when in the proximity of Sith, there were still a few items she needed to pick up - which she didn't want either of her shipmates to get wind of, not yet.

(The glances she got did not make her feel any better; the wary curiosity when people spotted her crutches, and the unenvious pity from fellow Imperials when they looked at her uniform and saw the pips that marked her out as in the personal service of a Sith)

Quinn, of course, had only authorised replacing the Imperial-food-substitute stores that she and Vette had chewed their way through - and what seemed to be confirmation of Vette's statement that he lived on Imperial ration bars. Eirn had to wonder if Quinn really did like the things - stranger things had been known to happen. Sith who couldn't use the Force, for example.

When she returned to the ship, it was to overhear the tail end of a conversation between Quinn and his master, and Eirn froze - hesitated, lingering in the corridors until Baras had signed off, silently cursing her cowardice all the while. She knew that he must have been aware of her choice in assignment - he'd have been stupid not to follow up on her use of his order, and that was assuming that Quinn hadn't told the man himself. Still, the longer she could put off the moment where it would have to be acknowledged that she'd thrown her lot in with her _protector_ 's apprentice, the technically-happier she was.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn said, turning to face her as she entered - all business. 'I felt your return. How much did you hear?'

Which made her hesitate - half unsure what Quinn was accusing her of, and half unsure of what she _had_ overheard. It didn't help that his expression had lapsed into its usual intense, analytical, stare - probing her every reaction, conscious or otherwise, for information that he was probably going to hold against her.

'Nothing of substance, my lord,' she replied, cautiously - she had no idea what Baras had wanted, and had mostly just wanted not to be present for the conversation. It was cowardly, and slightly pointless - but the longer she could put off the moment when he made a point of knowing where she was, the relatively-happier she would be.

'Hm,' Quinn just replied, continuing to study her. 'It would seem,' he added, 'That someone has been tracking our movements. Lord Baras believes it to be Master Karr,' he continued, 'And I'm inclined to agree.'

'Karr,' Eirn repeated, frowning to herself a little. The name meant nothing to her - or nearly nothing, and judging by Quinn's expression, it shouldn't have.

'Nomen Karr,' Quinn added, his tone becoming a little irritated, 'Is the Jedi whose people exposed Agent Dellocon, and who were working to expose Commander Rylon.'

Quinn's targets on Nar Shaddaa and Balmorra - Eirn didn't suppose that was much of a surprise. If the Jedi had been tracking Baras's agents, it made sense that Quinn's elimination of them would draw attention.

_Karr... That's not where I've heard that name, though._

'Do we- know how he's been tracking us, my lord?' Eirn asked - suddenly concerned about a lot of things, including the deeply critical way Quinn was studying her.

'We do not,' he replied, 'Though it wouldn't surprise me to learn that there are further traitors in my Master's ranks. Regardless,' he added, 'Lord Baras has been able to locate where they are operating from. I want to investigate immediately,' Quinn continued, glancing - at that - to the crutches Eirn was still leaning on. 'Going into hostile territory without support of a field medic is not my preferred course of action, but it seems I have little choice.'

That just made Eirn wince - at her uselessness, and at her arrogance, as much as at the way her ankle twinged any time she shifted.

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied, though - adding, 'I will set a course immediately.' 

'Good. Do that. And- Lieutenant?' Quinn added, looking straight at her, this time.

'My lord?' Eirn just replied - holding back cautiously, not convinced that she wasn't still about to be reprimanded for something.

'I meant what I said, earlier. I want you to rest and fully heal. You will be of no use to me in the field if you cannot perform fully.'

Which just make Eirn wince again, if only because she parsed it as a statement on her uselessness generally; made her remember unhappily that she was still _on probation_ , and that finding allies with the will and ability to actually help her was going to become exponentially more difficult if Quinn ended up kicking her out. Combined with the fact that she was about to sit out her first mission of this assignment, it did nothing whatsoever to reassure her - if anything, it was a threat, a judgement, and an extremely pointed reminder of the precariousness of her position.

'Of course, my lord,' she just replied, though - made herself reply, grinding out grateful deference and wishing, not for the first time, that she'd pretended to be as untrained in saber combat as Vette likely was. 'I will. Thank you.'

-

The station, it emerged, was a privately owned, unaligned one located in Hutt space - of course. From what Eirn could tell, it seemed rent out space to anyone who could afford it, and was highly protective of its clients privacy while simultaneously entirely without standards that weren't related to the ability of those clients to pay their fees. Numerous persons and organisations had space rented out - most, Eirn could only assume, under pseudonyms. Luckily, Baras's information comprised more than just coordinates and an instruction to 'investigate further'. They had a name - one of those pseudonyms, presumably - and an approximate location within the station, no doubt extracted along with much blood and sweat and captive tears.

'My lord,' Eirn asked cautiously, studying the Sith as closely as she dared for any sign that he was going to react to her questioning him poorly, 'Have you considered that this may be a trap of some kind?'

'Of course I have, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, irritably, 'But a lead is a lead. Besides,' he added, smirking a little to himself, 'If Karr is willing to sacrifice his informants to lead me into a trap, then we're clearly on the right track.'

Which Eirn was certain was Sith arrogance talking as much as it was anything else, though she decided not to comment. 

'As you say, my lord,' she just replied - the age-old Imperial refusal to agree with or approve of a Sith's decision, while simultaneously signalling that you were not going to challenge it, either. 

If Quinn took issue with her choice of phrase, though, he gave no indication - just got straight back to business, his focus all seemingly on the task ahead.

'Get us docked with the station, Lieutenant. I want whoever is keeping tabs on us to know that we're coming. Vette,' he added, glancing sharply at the sulking Twi'lek, 'Get geared up, and make sure to bring medical supplies. You'll be covering for the Lieutenant while she's injured.'

Eirn winced at that remark - at the unspoken criticism of her, and at the faint guilt for dumping more tasks on Vette. Vette's demeanour was not improved any for this remark; granted, her sulks were a standard feature of field operations, but they never became something Eirn was happy to see.

'Yeah, yeah,' Vette muttered, glaring resentfully at nobody in particular. 'Doesn't take a genius to work a kolto spray,' she added, scowling. 

Eirn was half-convinced that remark was aimed at her, though she said nothing - fighting with Vette wasn't worth it, not when the Twi'lek probably resented her already.

'And enough of that,' Quinn added, giving Vette a sharp glare.

' _Whatever_ ,' Vette just replied, stalking off towards the cargo bay. 'Leaving! Getting gear! Your lordiness!'

Which just left the two Sith alone; Eirn half at attention, conspicuously more awkward as Vette's grumblings continued - and Quinn, who was just scowling at the retreating Twi'lek.

'Lieutenant,' he added, focusing on Eirn, 'While we're aboard the station, I want you to keep an eye on known Republic comm frequencies. I don't expect the Jedi to be broadcasting openly, but if they do, I want to know about it.'

'If I pick anything up, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'I'll let you know right away.' She didn't expect she would; she was half convinced that this would end up being another wild gizka chase, but kept that thought very much to herself.

-

Sitting around on the ship while Quinn and Vette headed into Emperor-only-knew-what was not a course of action that made Eirn happy in the slightest. She couldn't even pace irritably; her ankle was getting progressively more tender, and while she wasn't averse to sticking herself with painkillers, she also wanted to stay alert and focused in case of an emergency. Not that she would be a lot of use in a firefight; not that a firefight would be likely to end well, given the attitudes that Hutts tended to have towards breaches of their carefully guarded peace. 

When the ship's comm buzzed, she half expected it to be Quinn in the throes of some emergency - when the incoming caller ID was a simple, ill-boding _withheld_ , she revised that to some bean-counter on Kaas, calling to find fault with some form or another she'd submitted incorrectly, and groaned inwardly at the thought.

What she got, of course, was not that in the slightest.

'Lieutenant Illte. It's been some time since we've spoken directly.'

Baras. The one person in all the galaxy Eirn had been attempting to avoid. _Fuck._

'Lord Baras!' Eirn stammered - surprised and acutely terrified, in equal measure. 'It's, uh. Your apprentice is- looking into the people that've been tracking our movements. He's off the ship at the moment, but if you hold, I can connect you-'

'Lieutenant,' Baras replied, his tone full of the kind of smug amusement that Eirn knew promised nothing good. 'I'm aware, yes. I was actually looking to speak with _you_.'

Which promised nothing pleasant, and Eirn felt the knot in her stomach begin to turn itself into heavy, leaden ice.

'My lord?' Eirn replied, extremely cautiously - remembering, unpleasantly, Dellocon's gamble - and protests, and fate. 

_Get away from him, before it's too late-_

'I have to admit,' Baras added, 'I did not expect you to attach yourself to Quinn's service. He clearly made quite an impression on you.'

'He did, my lord,' Eirn replied, as deferential as she could. There was no use denying it - Quinn _had_ made an impression on her, though how accurate it had been was still under question. Certainly, he'd been a better sport about their sparring match than most Sith, at least to her face - but that was one pseudo-positive in a sea of murky probably-negatives.

She'd considered, of course, that Baras might have wanted her at Quinn's side; two potential problems, one potential solution - but that was where _calling his bluff_ had come in. It was an idea that had seemed almost workable, on Balmorra - worlds away from Baras, secure in the hope that she could avoid holocalls like this, and build- her own strength, her own resources (her own alliance with Quinn, for whatever that would end up being worth - still tethered to a Sith, but at the very least, one who spoke to her as a person, rather than a pawn).

'I've received Lord Quinn's report from Nar Shadaa. It made for interesting reading,' Baras mused, 'Quite differently composed to his previous reports. And rather reminiscent of ones I recall receiving from you.'

Eirn found that a little hard to believe; Baras was the kind of Sith who delegated as many of his tasks as he could, and that included skim-reading reports from his agents in the field. Woe betide the unfortunate officer or apprentice who interrupted a round of whatever his latest sadistic whimsy was.

'I submitted a report to Lord Quinn for his purposes, my lord. However, I cannot comment on anything that he's submitted to you,' she replied, carefully; she wasn't certain how closely Quinn would have bothered to read her work, but also didn't want to assume responsibility for some edit or addendum he'd made without her knowledge.

Besides, she realised, there was probably some other message, there - an unspoken threat of some kind, if she had the right of Baras, though what it was currently escaped her. 

Baras just chuckled at her response, though - a dry, unpleasant noise that never stopped putting Eirn in the mind of a manka stalking its unwitting prey.

'Of course, Lieutenant,' Baras just replied - far more charming, here and now, than he ever had been while she'd been on Balmorra, and it put Eirn all the more on her guard for it. 'Well,' he added, 'I shan't keep you. I would strongly recommend,' he added, 'That you heed my apprentice's advice, and rest yourself. It would not do for him to be deprived of your skills for longer than is absolutely necessary.'

_He knows-?_ Eirn felt her expression twitch - her browstalks pull sharply into an approximation of a sharply defensive panic that disappeared as soon as it was there. Had Quinn mentioned their bout already? Complaining about her, no doubt - or was there something else going on, here?

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn just replied, offering Baras the very slightest of bows and wishing he would hurry up and sign off.

'Oh,' Baras added, 'And- Lieutenant. There is no need to mention this conversation to my apprentice. It would simply burden him unnecessarily, and I think I speak for both of us when I say that would be... undesirable.'

Which Eirn knew was a command to keep her mouth shut, and one she was immediately uncertain was in her interest. What would she have even told Quinn, though? So much as mentioning this would be suspect in itself - but not saying anything immediately meant that she was keeping things from Quinn, which if she wanted to build any kind of alliance with him was a questionable tactic at best. 

'Of course, my lord,' she replied, though - feigning ignorance and deference, and - not for the first time - wondering if it wasn't too late to go build a snow fortress on Hoth with the wampas.

-

' _Hey, Eir. We, uh. Ran into some problems._ '

The second contact she had over the comm was not much better - Eirn knew as soon as she got an incoming call from Vette to brace herself for bad news, and wasn't set at ease in the slightest by the Twi'lek's opening salvo.

'Vette,' Eirn replied, not liking the way this conversation was starting one bit. 'What do you mean, _problems_?'

' _I, uh. It's kind of a long story. Can you come meet us on the station? I'm sending you directions now._ '

Which continued to add to the distinct and growing feeling that they should not have come to this place to begin with. Still, it was too late to do anything about that.

'Vette,' Eirn started, 'I'm not exactly in good shape. If there's a fight-'

' _Don't worry, we're out of reach of the Pubs. I think. Oh, and- don't wear your uniform. Imps are_ not _popular here._ '

Which raised a whole horde of questions just by itself, but Eirn decided that this was a conversation they didn't have time for.

'Where is Lord Quinn?' she just replied, frowning to herself. She couldn't imagine the Sith being fine with- well, any of this - her being off the ship, her being out of uniform, he and Vette being somewhere that Imps were- well, _not popular_.

' _He's here. Just kinda. Non compos mentis. Slightly._ ' Vette's words were about as reassuring as her expression - a mixture of nervous and guilty, half obscured by the holo's own slightly blurry images but not promising anything good in the slightest.

('vette,' Quinn, somewhere out of sight, did not sound as though he was happy about this, but - equally - didn't sound as though he _was_ entirely _compos mentis_ , either. 'what're you doing?'

'Getting help,' Vette grumbled, 'so sit your ungrateful ass back down.')

Which almost certainly wasn't going to be received well - which made Eirn first wince at the disrespect, and then worry at the lack of rebuke from the Sith. Quinn might not have been as- _forceful_ as his Master, but he still had little time for Vette's- _Vette_ , and that she was getting away with this in such close proximity to him did not suggest anything positive about his condition.

'Alright,' Eirn sighed, 'I'll be with you as soon as I can. Sit tight, and try not to get into any more trouble.'

-

For all her hesitation at Vette's instructions, Eirn ended up following them - bandaging her ankle tightly and gritting her teeth as she pulled a boot on over it, sticking herself with painkillers and wondering how, exactly, she was supposed to pass herself off as not-an-Imp on such short notice. Her greatcoat did not have insignia, at the very least - and would allow her to carry some medical equipment unnoticed, though her rifle was going to have to be only for show. A breathing mask would cover much of her face - there weren't many aliens who had skin like Sith did, but she could at least hide her jaw tendrils, and hope that nobody looked too closely at her stumpy browstalks. 

_If this ends with me walking into a trap, I am going to murder someone. Everyone. With my kriffing crutch, if I have to._

The station concourse was all the worst things about Nar Shaddaa, concentrated into a fraction of the space. Garish lighting, stale air, hordes of aliens, and more hostile stares than the Korriban arrivals lounge at Kaas City's spaceport. Eirn was just grateful that she didn't seem to stick out, much - sour-tempered humanoids attempting to make themselves as anonymous as they could was a common theme.

The location Vette had sent was an unoccupied bay - sealed, or something approaching it, with signage to the effect that the area was closed off for repairs. The service entrance, according to Vette's instructions, hadn't been difficult to slice open; Eirn wasn't reassured by any of this in the slightest, and braced herself for Emperor-only-knew-what as she entered.

All she found, though, was a jumpy Rutian Twi'lek who stuck a pair of blasters in her face and demanded to know what the hell she wanted.

Eirn just sighed - grateful that the mask had done its job, even if she didn't appreciate having blasters stuck in her face. 'It's me, Vette,' she just sighed - pulling the mask off, not that this action did very much to reassure her.

'Eir! You made it. Great!' Vette was apparently at least as on-edge as Eirn was, something which did nothing at all to reassure the Sith; she at least lowered her blasters, but didn't relax any.

Eirn shot Vette a glance that was more than a little bemused - and which slid into concerned when she spotted their glorious leader. Quinn looked more than a little worse for wear - was sat against the wall, loosely clutching his lightsaber in one hand, not that he looked to be in any state to use it. His armour had clearly taken a beating - it was in pieces, his helmet half off and half scattered on the floor, and much of his upper armour was missing entirely. The underlayer was present, mostly, but had suffered numerous burns and tears, some of which had underlying injuries that Vette looked to have _attempted_ to see to.

'....lieutenant,' Quinn managed, not quite slurring the word but failing, equally, to form it with anything approaching his normal control or precision, 'you're supposed to be on the ship.'

'There was a slight change of plans, my lord,' Eirn replied, sighing to herself as she ran the scanner over him. Vette seemed to have done a passable job of patching him up, but there was only so much that could be done with stims and kolto sprays. He had a concussion, bruised ribs, had inhaled any number of toxic gases, and, somehow, had some mild frostbite on the areas that the shattered armour had left exposed. 

'Vette,' she added, glancing at the Twi'lek as she started to attend to what she could of Quinn's injuries, 'What happened?'

Vette, at that, shrugged slightly awkwardly. 'Wasn' exactly a trap,' she replied, 'But they knew we were comin'. Which, yanno. Figures, given as they were trackin' us. Anyway,' she grumbled, catching the slightly sour look Eirn threw her, and taking the hint, 'Lord Dumbass here got up close and personal with a fire suppressant droid that one of the Pubs blew up to cover their escape. It... went downhill from there,' she trailed off, cringing a little as she spoke.

('vette,' Quinn managed, apparently not so out of it he would let her insults go unanswered, 'i _heard_ that.')

Hence Quinn's frostbite - and the damaged armour. At least, Eirn mused, he'd had his armour to take the brunt of it - she didn't like to imagine what the fire suppressant would have done to him otherwise, with or without the Force.

'What about you?' Eirn added, as she worked - applying kolto patches to the worst of the burns, and praying that moving Quinn wasn't just going to make things worse. 'Are you injured?'

'Nothin' serious,' Vette muttered, pulling a face. 'I move too fast to get hit. Unlike this genius,' she added, glowering at the semi-conscious Sith.

'And it was definitely the Republic?' Eirn added - glancing back to Vette, just for a moment. The Republic in a place like this- well, part of her wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest, even as another part of her doubted that they would lower themselves to this kind of seedy, under-regulated hole without trying to 'liberate' it.

Vette, for her part, just shrugged at that question. 'They were workin' for a Jedi, so, probably.'

'karr,' Quinn spat, woozily - the name attached, when he said it, to as much acid as he could muster. It wasn't much, given the state he was in, but Eirn supposed it was the thought that counted.

'Karr's here?' Eirn replied, fear spiking through her at that idea. If there was a _Jedi_ in pursuit of them-

'Nah,' Vette shrugged, derailing that train of panicked thought before it could gather any speed. 'He was on the holo. But- yeah,' she added, a little awkwardly, 'It was him.'

'typical jedi,' Quinn added, apparently energised enough by the topic of Jedi to comment further. 'coward. won't fight...'

'Save your energy, my lord,' Eirn replied, filing the information away somewhere for future use - for a time when they weren't in the middle of arguably hostile territory, with possible Republic incoming.

'Vette,' she added, getting herself a glare from the Twi'lek, 'we need to get Lord Quinn back to the ship, but I can't support him by myself.'

'The both of us probably could,' Vette started, a little dubiously. 'You sure _you're_ up to it, though?

'I'm going to have to be,' Eirn sighed - not even sure how they were going to manage this, but not wanting to hang around until the Republic showed up, either.

-

They had to make for a sight, and Eirn was entirely certain that anyone looking for Quinn would find them extremely quickly - that she, at that, would be more of a hindrance than a help, should a fight break out. She hated it all the way back to their airlock - hated their slow movement, hated the odd looks they got on the rare occasion that the curiosity of strangers outweighed the deathglares she shot anyone unlucky or stupid enough to catch her eye. Vette seemed utterly unfazed - was more irritated at having to carry their Sith, who was alternately attempting to move under his own steam (out of sync with both of his companions, and thus the opposite of anything helpful) and slumping unhelpfully, somehow managing to weigh twice of what Eirn was certain was listed in his medical file.

('Get him into the medbay,' Eirn started, as soon as they were aboard the ship, 'And strapped onto one of the beds, then get yourself somewhere secure while I get us into hyperspace. I don't want to hang around here.'

'Yessir,' Vette grumbled, devolving immediately into grumpy sarcasm - but dragging Quinn towards the medical bay anyway, while Eirn - grateful for no longer having to try and hold Quinn up as well as herself - hobbled towards the bridge of the ship)

Setting the route for Vaiken was straightforward enough - just required an inversion of the course they'd taken to get here, and Eirn rather hoped, at that, that they really hadn't been followed. Once they were in hyperspace, the ship could be left to its autopilot - which meant that Eirn could make her way back into the medbay, attempting to brace herself for what was waiting for her there.

'Yeah, well, Eir said you gotta stay in here, an' she almost talks to me like I'm a person, so I'm listenin' to _her_.'

Quinn and Vette were getting along as well as ever, from the sound of it; Eirn wondered, for a moment, how Vette had ever lasted this long in Quinn's service. Granted, the Twi'lek's presence in Quinn's life was decidedly less voluntary than Eirn's was, but that just meant that Quinn considered keeping Vette around a better gamble than replacing her with someone less inclined to backtalk.

'My lord,' Eirn started, as she entered the medbay - attempting to grab hold of the situation and wrestle it into something more manageable, 'Please, lie down. You've been injured, and I need to make sure you're alright.'

Quinn slumped back on the bed, at the very least - before groaning audibly, a noise that Eirn assumed was mostly involuntary. 

'Can I go?' Vette asked, rather pointedly - failing quite entirely to offer Eirn anything approaching help. 

'One more thing,' Eirn sighed, 'I need your help getting the rest of his armour off. Please,' she added, attempting - if nothing else - to live up to that impossible _talks to me like i'm a person_ standard.

'Urgh,' Vette grumbled, 'I am not _undressing_ him-'

'I'm not asking you to undress him,' Eirn sighed, 'Just help me with his outer armour, and take it out to Twovee once we're done.'

'Alright, geez,' Vette grumbled, 'Don't get your stalks in a twist.' She cooperated, though - gingerly beginning to work on loosening Quinn's outermost layer of armour - that which had survived the mission, at least.

('Don't,' Quinn mumbled, twitching a leg as Vette attempted, extremely gingerly, to free him of what remained of his gear.

'My lord,' Eirn replied, 'Please. This will go much quicker if you hold still.' Both her own tasks as well as Vette's.

'gross,' Vette just muttered, all the while, 'gross, gross, gross,')

-

Vette wasn't difficult to track down, once Quinn had been dealt with (once the Sith had been persuaded to stay put - once Eirn was satisfied he was too out of it to try and crawl to his quarters as soon as her back was turned). She was hiding-not-hiding in the crew quarters, curled on her bunk with a datapad and half a packet of dry crackers.

Vette, like Quinn, protested that she didn't need attention at all, and was as uncooperative as she could be while Eirn ran the scanner over her anyway - complained all the way through Eirn's insistence on applying kolto pads to the bruising from where she'd been hit while carrying Quinn out of the Republic trap, and appreciating it even less when the Sith insisted on tending to the raw skin around her collar. 

Eirn returned to the medbay, after that; made herself a mug of caf and settled down at the terminal there, half attending to administrative tasks and half keeping an eye on the dozing Sith. It was a little odd, to see him like that - his expression relaxed, instead of its usual critical, analytical self. 

(He didn't snore, for which she was grateful; she had no idea how lightly he slept, and thus did not risk music, but she'd made worse compromises in the name of service to Sith, and this was a minor one)

-

They'd docked with Vaiken by the time Quinn woke up. Eirn had considered going the further step to Kaas, but Quinn didn't seem to require further medical attention - and she rather hated the planet, which made it an easy decision. Vette certainly hadn't argued, though she had lapsed into a mediocre sulk when Eirn had shot down the idea of getting dinner in a cantina. If nothing else, Eirn was loathe to abandon the ship while Quinn was vulnerable; not only would it be a dereliction of duty, but she was fairly certain it would result in the abrupt termination of her probationary period.

'Lieutenant?'

He startled her too, naturally; she'd been half drifting off herself, staring absent-mindedly past the numbers on the screen in front of her, while she twirled a fork in the remains of a mug of instant noodles and tried to marshal the energy to make the numbers add up to something less terrible.

'My lord,' she replied, slowly - putting the mug of noodles down on the terminal's desk, and - after a moment's fighting with her crutches, making her way over to the bed.

'Take it easy, my lord,' she added, as Quinn struggled to sit.

'I don't need _coddling_ , Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, rather more sharply - and more coherently - than he had been earlier. His tone, though, just made Eirn wince, for any number of reasons. 

'Of course. Forgive me, my lord,' she replied - auto-piloted, as she reached for a medical scanner, and hoped he didn't object to that, too. 'How are you feeling, my lord?' she added, cautiously.

Quinn didn't answer that - first not immediately, and then not at all, instead examining himself critically, apparently disapproving of having been allowed to sleep off his injuries in such a public sphere.

'What happened?' he asked, after a moment - almost _reluctantly_ , apparently ill at ease with having to rely on another for information about his situation. Eirn hadn't seen quite this situation before, but supposed that she shouldn't be surprised; Sith abhorred admitting weakness, and Quinn, thus far, appeared to be as orthodox as they came.

'Much of your armour was broken beyond repair during your mission, my lord,' Eirn replied - at least, Twovee had reported it beyond his skills, while spending twice the amount of time it took to impart that information also apologising for it. 

'Vette reported that your armour was heavily damaged during a fight involving a fire suppressant droid. You suffered some mild frostbite as a result, though I'm pleased to report that it's healing well. You've also got three bruised ribs, and a blaster burn on your left arm. I'll need to change your dressings, but- you should be back to normal in a few days.' Kolto and the Force were truly a winning combination; granted, Eirn had no idea how adept Quinn was at healing himself, but she knew that even disinclined Force users healed faster than the mere mortals who served them.

Quinn didn't reply to that - just frowned to himself, glaring at the middle distance as though it might provide answers that Eirn couldn't.

'Vette also reported that you encountered Nomen Karr, my lord. If I may ask-'

'Karr wasn't there,' Quinn interrupted, 'Not in person. We spoke over- holo.' He paused, at that - sighed, before adding, 'Has my master been in touch?'

Baras. Eirn swallowed, and wondered how easily Quinn could pick out a lie among tired truths \- how easily he could push past her crude mental shielding, and how slowly he would let her regret it when he found her out. _Well, here goes nothing._

'No, my lord,' she replied, 'He hasn't. I assumed that- you would be- wanting to make contact once you were- able,' she added, tripping over the words.

'I see,' Quinn replied - still glaring at the middle distance, in between disdainful glances at his bandages.

'I also took the liberty of contacting your armourer to make a appointment for you to see about replacement gear,' Eirn added - bracing herself for this having been the wrong course of action, all the same. 'I- would have simply requisitioned a replacement, but given the nature of the damage it took, I- didn't want to assume how you would wish to proceed. We're docked with Vaiken at the moment, but we can leave for Kaas immediately, if you wish.'

Vette had refused to give her any useful information on Quinn's wardrobe, and Eirn hadn't felt up to risking life and limb by investigating the Sith's quarters herself. With no way of knowing if Quinn kept a spare set for this kind of eventuality, she'd made a gamble - reasoned that even if he did keep a backup set of armour, he'd still need a replacement, and the sooner one was organised, the better.

Quinn, though, didn't seem annoyed - just nodded, slightly absent-mindedly, as he took in the information. 'Thank you, Lieutenant,' he replied, eventually.

'My lord,' Eirn added, studying him for a moment, 'I would strongly recommend that you eat something, and get some rest. You've been through a lot, and still need to heal.'

Quinn finally looked to Eirn, at that - his expression sliding into one that could be best described as mildly amused. 'Are you giving me an order, Lieutenant?'

'I would never presume to do that, my lord,' Eirn replied, immediately regretting her tone, and wishing she could somehow restart this conversation - or perhaps the entire day, while she was at it. 'I was just- making a recommendation, as your medic.'

'That- I- Never mind,' Quinn just sighed, his expression collapsing into something resembling fatigued irritation. 'Thank you, Lieutenant.'

Eirn just winced at his reply - clearly she'd misjudged something, but there was nothing she could say to any of that which wouldn't somehow just make it worse. 'May I change your dressings, my lord?' she just asked - batting the conversation as far from her incompetence as she could.

'Very well, Lieutenant,' he replied - sighed, again, in the kind of irritable defeat that made Eirn wish she hadn't said anything at all, even as she knew she had a job to do.

(He didn't linger, once she was finished; disappeared into his quarters as soon as he was able, leaving her to her now-cold noodles, and the growing conviction that she'd made yet another poor decision)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I apologise for the long break - for those who don't read my blog, I recently had a long hospital stay, and getting back into the saddle has taken a while.
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all comments and feedback!


	8. Chapter 8

Kaas City was everything Eirnhaya remembered hating about it - grey skies, even in the middle of the dry season (grey morning fog, according to the weathercast, though their night landing meant a blissful ignorance of the daytime weather), uncomfortable humidity, hostile, judgemental stares at every checkpoint - and _Baras_ , secreted away in the sanctum he'd carved out of some other Sith's hide in the centre of the city. That last thought annoyed her enough to last all through her morning PT, and was still lingering when Quinn decided to once more impose on her breakfast at the conference room table.

'Good morning, my lord,' she managed, though - pushing her annoyance down as far as it would go, and hoping Quinn wouldn't decide it had been aimed at him.

They were still aboard the ship, at the very least; Eirn was half-convinced that if she listened hard enough, she might be able to hear the rain on the spaceport's windows. She knew it was impossible, but she'd been raised on a diet of heresy and theatrics, neither of which had done anything to abate her tendency towards the dramatic. Still, it meant a controlled environment - meant filtered air and tolerable humidity, though Eirn was fairly certain this was all going to change.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, taking a seat opposite her - glancing at her meal (Standard-issue Imperial Waffle Substitutes, with standard-issue Imperial syrup substitute, and accompanied by a mug of standard-issue Imperial caf substitute) and then, after a moment, at her. 'I trust you slept well?'

Which wasn't quite what she'd ever expected to hear from him, and Eirn blinked in surprise, staring for what felt like far too long before finally managing to reply. 'I- yes, thank you, my lord. And- you?' she added, trying to grab for civil conversation and wondering what, exactly, Quinn wanted _this_ time.

Quinn looked slightly taken aback in turn, though, and for a moment, Eirn wondered if she shouldn't have replied in kind. 'I did,' he replied, though, 'Thank you, Lieutenant.' He paused, at that - glanced at her crutch, which was leaning awkwardly against the table next to her (as though it was any less awkward than either of the two Sith), and added, 'I hope your- ankle is improving?'

'It's- still a little tender,' Eirn replied, slightly warily, 'but healing, slowly. My lord.' 

Quinn didn't manage any immediate reply to that - just a subdued _hm_ which did exactly nothing to reassure his Lieutenant.

'But- well,' Eirn added, 'I'd- with your permission, my lord, I'd like to change your dressings, and check on your own injuries, once-' _Once I'm done eating._ '- the day has started.'

For a moment, Quinn looked like he was going to object - and then he apparently thought better of it, nodding. 'Very well, Lieutenant.' He glanced away at that, though - shifted, slightly awkwardly, before adding, 'If you're satisfied with my health, I will be heading into Kaas City. My Master wishes to speak with me.'

'I would never presume to stand in your way, my lord,' Eirn replied, wincing just a little; medic or no, she had exactly no authority over even the lowliest of Sith. Getting in the way of an order from Baras was doubly unappealing, even if Eirn would have gladly defied the man in all possible ways, were she able.

Her response, though, just prompted Quinn's expression to fold into one of mild bemusement, as he studied her for what felt like a long and awkward moment - one of many, and Eirn momentarily wondered if Quinn had somehow managed to draw power from _that_.

(Clearly she'd misstepped, again; not in a way that seemed to _anger_ Quinn, exactly, but he definitely wasn't getting the reaction he was looking for, either)

'If I didn't value your advice, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, eventually, 'I wouldn't seek it.'

Which Eirn had no idea how she was supposed to respond to; it felt like a criticism, somehow, even if the letter of his words was, theoretically, a reassurance. 

'I- of course, my lord. I'm- sorry,' she managed, eventually - scrabbling for a response, even as she knew without having to say it that it wasn't going to be sufficient.

Quinn seemed to agree with her on that, at least - his expression betraying more of that bemused irritation, before he marshalled it into his usual detached scrutiny.

'Well, I will leave you to your breakfast, Lieutenant. Notify me,' he added, 'Once you are ready for me.'

'Thank you, my lord,' Eirn just murmured, as he left - genuinely grateful that, if nothing else, she wouldn't have to make a further prat of herself in front of him. At least, not until she'd had the rest of her breakfast-substitute.

-

Quinn's own recovery seemed to be proceeding well, at the very least; there weren't many things that Eirn envied about trained Force-users, but their accelerated healing and recovery from injury was one of them. Quinn was apparently little different, which given his general reluctance to accept medical attention was probably just as well. He was fidgety and impatient, as she examined him - twitched with a kind of annoyed nervousness that didn't become Lords of the Sith in the slightest, right from the moment she pulled the privacy curtain across, never mind pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. (She tried not to snap them, but always failed; as much as she knew that noise never failed to be disconcerting, it always seemed, somehow, inevitable)

'Are you in any pain, my lord?' Eirn began - probably a stupid question, but usually a safe enough place to begin.

Quinn didn't reply immediately; when he did, it was with a glare that Eirn took to mean that he was, but didn't want to admit it. It didn't help that he was, behind the privacy curtain, half-disrobed - only enough so that Eirn could do her job, and even that was done grudgingly. He seemed embarrassed, as much as anything - though at what, Eirn didn't like to hazard a guess.

'My lord,' Eirn added, 'I only ask-'

'I don't need to be _coddled_ , Lieutenant,' Quinn snapped - more defensively than anything, but Eirn found it impossible not to wince. 

'I'm not trying to coddle you, my lord,' Eirn replied - keeping her tone as deferential as she could make it. 'But if you're feeling any pain or discomfort, I need to know in order to assist you.'

_He keeps half-thinking of you as a Sith_ , her paranoia mused. _It's the only reason he's as polite to you as he is, and it's why he's going to get rid of you, if you keep pushing your luck. He probably thinks you're plotting against him - he's probably doing just that himself-_

'I am not in-' Quinn started to protest, as she began removing his bandages - and then immediately inhaled sharply, hissing in a way that truncated sharply as he tried to bite it off and simultaneously told her more about the lie he'd just contradicted than words ever could.

-

Morning briefing went a little better, at the very least; Vette was her usual sulky self, slouching on the couch and pointedly glaring at anything not a Sith, while Eirn stood attentively as Quinn spoke. They were, of course, decamping to the City; Eirn had rather been hoping that she could hide in the ship's filtered, dehumidified air, but equally, wasn't surprised to have that hope shattered. 

'In that case, my lord,' Eirn began, 'I will notify Kaas City barracks-'

'There's no need for that, Lieutenant,' Quinn added, interrupting her. 'I would rather keep you on hand. I've already instructed my housedroid to get a bed made up for you in the servant's quarters.'

Eirn paused, at that \- not just at where she'd apparently be bunking, but that she'd be there at all. 

Technically, there was nothing wrong with the order, even leaving aside the fact that it was legal by virtue of having been given by a Sith. It was simply- well, Sith keeping their retainers _that_ close at hand was not unheard of. It was usually accompanied by implications of- other services that their officers were expected to provide, though, and for a moment, all Eirn could think of was the conversation they'd had back on Balmorra - when she'd shoved her foot down her throat in public, and Quinn had found it _funny_. Here and now, there was none of that, but she was still put on her guard, if only by virtue of the expectant look he was giving her.

'As you prefer, my lord,' she managed to make herself reply - shoving her more primal responses under what passed for her mental shielding, and hoping he didn't have the ability or inclination to try and pry.

His expression, though, slid into that irritated bemusement that he'd been wearing over breakfast, before rearranging itself into his usual scrutinising disdain. 'Vette,' Quinn added irritably - shifting his glare to the Twi'lek, 'Don't think this doesn't include you.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Vette grumbled. 'Just as long as we ain't taking the scenic route in.'

(Quinn, she told herself, as she packed, seemed not to be _au fait_ with a lot of things about Sith culture; seemed not to be _au fait_ with a lot of military culture too, despite his heritage, and for a moment she almost believed that she was overreacting)

-

Quinn's residence, it emerged, was an apartment in one of the foundation district - in one of the better blocks, but still an odd choice for a Sith. Eirn had known plenty of people who'd lived and rented there during her own stay in the city - the foundation district was economically depressed, and therefore cheap, and therefore popular with students. Sith, though- Sith tended to congregate in the more fashionable districts, and not simply because they were close at hand to the Citadel itself.

( _But he's Kaasi_ , she mused - looking over the bedroom she and Vette were apparently sharing with mild disdain, especially as Vette had already claimed the more permanent of the two beds. _Maybe he's got ties, here?_ And then: _At least this doesn't seem to be his_ family _home._ )

'Hey. Ell-Tee. Do they teach you to pull that face in Imp school?' Vette, of course, found Eirn's discomfort with this arrangement highly amusing, even if she didn't seem to have realised why it existed at all. _Thank the fucking Emperor._

Quinn was every inch as reclusive as he ever was, holing up in his sanctum here as soon as he could - not, given the circumstances, that Eirn was complaining. She was relieved to discover that Quinn's housekeeping droid had at least bought in fresh supplies for their stay; that his apartment was upmarket enough to come with air-conditioning, and the kitchen windows even had a decent view out over the city - or would have done, were it not the middle of the wet season.

_but isn't that true about everything in this Force-cursed city-_

-

There was one unpleasant surprise waiting for her; the discovery that apparently, she'd actually become used to sleeping aboard a ship. Her barracks on Balmorra had been gloriously quiet, at least when the Republic-sponsored insurgency hadn't been making progress in their ongoing attempts to level Sobrik to the ground. Quinn's ship, by contrast- well, it was noisy, the constant hum of lights and engines and air cycling enough, on Eirn's first nights, to disturb her sleep. Apparently, though, her first week-or-so in Quinn's service had been enough to adapt, because she still ended up lying awake - puzzling at what felt so _off_ about this place, and not reassured for a moment when she realised the answer.

She was still pondering this revelation when she next encountered the man himself - while she was making herself caf and attempting to wake up, half ignoring the complaints of Quinn's domestic droid and half leaning against the kitchen counter, still not wanting to put much weight on her injured ankle. He startled her, of course \- not that this was difficult, early in the morning and after a difficult night's sleep.

'My lord,' Eirn managed, offering him a faint bow. 'Good morning. I was- making caf, if you wanted some.'

There was something distinctly, unpleasantly, awkward about this - standing in Quinn's kitchen, in uniform, half asleep, offering him his own caf. Still instant, if a better brand of instant than she was usually stuck with; not her preferred blend, but a distinct improvement on Imperial-standard-issue.

He hesitated, for a moment - looked at least as awkward as she felt, though she wasn't certain how much she trusted that appearance. 'I will,' he replied, 'Thank you, Lieutenant.'

_Since when were you his domestic, Illte?_

Eirn said nothing, though - just nodded compliantly, and set about making him a caf. 'If I may ask, my lord,' she added - started to add, as she worked, 'What will my duties be, while we're in the city?'

'That will depend largely on what Lord Baras requires,' Quinn mused - glancing Eirn up and down, though if he found fault with her appearance, he at least kept it to himself. 'I'm to report directly to him - once I've been cleared by my medic.'

'With your permission, of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - not sure if Quinn was trying for levity or not, and erring on the side of _Sith_.

Which, of course, Quinn did not look enthused about. Not that Eirn could entirely blame him - Emperor knew, she loathed being prodded and poked by well-intentioned medics. But she had a job to do, and- well, she doubted that Baras would take it kindly if his apprentice succumbed to some illness or injury on her watch.

( _At least_ , she mused, _not without his order._ )

'Of course, Lieutenant,' Quinn sighed, though - looking about as eager as he sounded. 

'Your caf, my lord,' Eirn just added - pasting a smile on her face as she offered him the mug, and wondering where he found the energy to indulge in Sith head games at such unholy hours.

-

He did not, at the very least, demand Eirn accompany him to see Baras - and was apparently content to let Vette remain under Eirn's supervision, even as all the Twi'lek seemed to want to do was eat and watch holodramas. Eirn just took the opportunity to catch up on administrative work, attempting to ignore the Twi'lek's questionable taste in entertainment while she wrestled with the holonet connection in Quinn's apartment. She suspected she was mostly there to keep an eye on Vette - who, in turn, was steadfastly refusing to do anything that wasn't slouching on the couch and consuming any food she could find that didn't require preparation.

The upshot was that things were at least quiet, when he returned - enough so that Eirn could immediately turn her attention to him.

'My lord. I trust things went well?'

Quinn shot her a curious, slightly wary, glance for that - but nodded, all the same. 'Lord Baras is pleased with my progress. He's _less_ pleased that Karr seems to know so much about his operations,' he added, frowning a little to himself, 'But short of dealing with the man permanently, there's not much that can be done about that.'

Eirn had done a little digging of her own, while Quinn had been out; Karr was an old enemy of Baras's, and a Jedi Master of some renown. There was a price on his head - an Imperial bounty, though Eirn's clearance hadn't been enough to get her the reasons why. Still, she could guess - if Baras was the source of the bounty, which seemed probable, it was likely Karr had undone some scheme or pet project of his, and was smart - or lucky - enough to have evaded the spies Baras had in the Republic. Her clearance hadn't gotten her anything more than her own speculations, though, and she didn't doubt for a moment that some peon of Baras's was already aware of her enquiries. There was no such thing as personal secrets, in the Empire; she'd learned that one the hard way.

'May I ask, my lord,' Eirn began, 'If we have a new assignment, that being the case?'

'I have business in the city,' Quinn replied immediately, frowning to himself a little, 'Which will detain us for a few days. Once that is complete, however,' he added, 'We will be heading offworld again. I will need you both,' he added, shooting a pointed glare at Vette, 'Ready to leave as soon as I give the order.'

Eirn had to admit she was not sorry to hear that; the thought of being stuck on Kaas (of bunking in Quinn's apartment - an arrangement she was not happy about in the slightest) did not fill her with glee. Having no firm leaving date meant existing in a state of mild impermanence, but the news they'd be departing soon almost made up for it. 

'All you need do is say the word, my lord,' Eirn replied - offering him a small, perfunctory bow.

(Vette, who'd been pointedly ignoring both of them, rolled her eyes but said nothing)

-

When Quinn approached her the next day, it was long after breakfast - long enough that she'd started thinking about lunch, though that was in large part her mind wandering as she attempted to study a medical manual. For once, he didn't even startle her - she was distracted enough from her self-appointed task that she greeted the Sith as soon as she spotted him - as soon as he joined her in his kitchen, sat at the small table with naught but her datapad and an empty mug of caf for company.

'My lord,' she started - sitting a little more upright from where she'd started slouching. 'Was there something you needed?'

'Actually, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - taking a seat opposite her, 'I was- thinking about our sparring match,' he mused, 'And it occurred to me that you never mentioned how you'd come to be trained.'

Which put Eirn on her guard, naturally; more so than usual, and she wasn't sure if Quinn considered this some kind of trap. She'd already told him that Baras knew of her training, so there was no question of him running to his Master with complaints or revelations. Sith, she knew, though, guarded their secrets jealously, and though there was no legal bar to her training, there was - in certain circles - a strong, nigh-impenetrable cultural one. That it was the same cultural barrier that would have seen her dead, or worse, was irrelevant - Quinn was Sith, after all, and ignorance of some Sith customs did not mean ignorance of _all_ of them.

'One of my- mother's apprentices taught me, my lord,' Eirn admitted, after a slightly awkward moment, 'On the condition I kept out of- real fights. Mum was never very happy about it, but- it did keep me out of trouble.'

'Real fights?' Quinn repeated, studying her warily.

'We lived in a- Sith neighbourhood, my lord. And- well,' she sighed, 'I suppose I don't need to tell you how Sith- view those without the Force.' 

She wondered, for a moment, how typical a Sith Quinn was, in that regard; certainly, he viewed Vette very much as his inferior - viewed _her_ as his inferior, but wasn't- violent, not in the way her childhood tormentors had been. (Not in the way her adulthood tormentors were, either)

Quinn frowned a little at that - and then a _lot_. 'You had fights with _Sith_? Lieutenant...'

For an Imperial to defy a Sith was, of course, deeply frowned upon; for an Imperial to _strike_ a Sith, even in self-defence, was abhorrent. It happened, though - the late Captain Kligton and his men, had they survived, would have been questioned by the Imperial authorities but pardoned by the Sith ones if they'd bought Rathari's favour with Quinn's head.

'With their children,' Eirn replied - 'when _I_ was a child. To tell you the truth, my lord,' she added, 'I lost more fights than I won, but until I started winning, their parents and Overseers were perfectly happy for me to be their punching bag.' 

Her own mother had been less amused, of course - largely because Eirn had done as little to avoid them as she could, especially once she'd started winning. Working out the ways in which Sith were mortal, fragile beings had been a task she'd applied herself to readily - _too_ readily, as it had turned out. Even being dragged in front of an Inquisitor had only dissuaded Eirn from fighting when she stood a chance of getting caught - and done absolutely nothing to stymie her hatred of the Sith authorities.

Quinn said nothing, to that - just continued to frown, his disapproval with this entire story loud and clear. 

'Why were you even- getting into fights with these- Sith?' he managed - apparently having trouble wrapping his mind around part of this concept. (That Sith had children? That Eirn had been a child once - that she'd stood up for herself, and lived to tell the tale?)

'They'd pick at me,' Eirn replied, rather flatly, 'Because I'm a runt. And because they could get away with it. My lord.' 

If it hadn't been obvious that Quinn was not from a Sith line before, it was now - that he'd made it this far without working out at least some of the unspoken truths in Sith society honestly stumped Eirn. Sith did what Sith wanted, and got what Sith wanted, and that applied just as much to their children - assuming, of course, they weren't aberrations. 

'I see,' Quinn just said, though - still frowning to himself as he turned this over. 'So- these- fights. You didn't fight- I mean, they weren't... duels?'

'No, my lord,' Eirn sighed, 'Other than yourself and Lord Ba'al, Lord Iyre - mother's apprentice - is the only- Force-sensitive I've duelled. With a saber,' she clarified, perhaps unnecessarily. The terms of her tutelage had been strictly enforced, though Eirn had long suspected that was more her mother's chain than her tutor's.

'I see,' Quinn repeated - studying her for a moment further. 'I take it, then,' he added, 'That- since you left for the military, you've- not had much chance to spar? Or to practice? At least- not with a partner?'

'Unfortunately not, my lord,' Eirn replied - unable, at that, to take that as anything but a veiled insult. 

It wasn't even a necessary one; she _knew_ she was out of practice, and had told him as much when he'd asked her back on Nar Shaddaa. Not for the first time, she wished she'd denied everything - if only because it meant that none of this conversation, none of these _judgements_ , would be taking place.

'It's a pity,' Quinn was musing, though. 'You're a talented swordswoman.'

'You're- very kind to say that, my lord,' Eirn replied - unsettled by the compliment, especially coming on the heels of an insult as it did. (Especially at his deduction that it was important to her; not that this would have been difficult to puzzle out, but that didn't stop her hating it when Sith treated her like a puzzle)

'Actually,' Quinn added, more than a little awkwardly, 'I'd- been wondering if you would be willing to spar with me again. Or- well,' he added, suddenly fumbling with the words, 'on a regular basis, should you care to.'

Which took Eirn rather by surprise - and not necessarily in a pleasant way, particularly so soon after her earlier admissions.

'I'm- flattered, my lord,' she replied, warily, 'But- I'm not certain how much use sparring with me would be. It's not like I'd provide a challenge.'

It didn't help that the last time a Sith had wanted to fight with her repeatedly, she hadn't exactly had a choice in the matter - even if it hadn't exactly been controlled and civil fencing, either. 

'Only if I rely on the Force,' Quinn replied, 'and I've always been of the opinion that over-reliance on it is a weakness, rather than a strength.'

Now _that_ was something Eirn had never expected to hear a Sith say. She was no philosopher, and her mother's interminable philosophical tomes had always made Eirn rather grateful that nobody cared how unorthodox _she_ was, but she was fairly certain that what Quinn had just come out with was heresy.

'Besides,' he added, apparently oblivious to that, 'I- enjoyed our last match. And- if you're willing,' he continued, ever more awkwardly, 'I would like to- teach you. If you wished to resume your own training, of course,' he finished - looking for all the world as though his ability to breathe hinged on her answer, which just by itself did absolutely nothing to reassure her.

'I- that's- um,' Eirn started - trying to process this, and mostly just coming up with the conviction that this was some elaborate prank or extended joke, with her as the punchline. He wanted to-? Not just-? Was he _serious_ , or-?

'At least think about it, Lieutenant,' Quinn added, offering her a smile - and more importantly, an out.

'I will- do that, my lord. Thank you,' Eirn managed - all the more glad, at that, when Quinn excused himself, leaving her - finally - alone.

-

Eirn had to admit that she had enjoyed their last round - at least, up until the point she'd been injured. A part of her had always enjoyed fencing, even with Sith, so long as they could refrain from losing their tempers and flattening her with the Force. Other than her tutor, though, Sith had only ever viewed her as a joke or a punching bag, and she wasn't certain that Quinn didn't consider her to be at least one of those things. If not a _joke_ , necessarily, then a curiosity - a novelty which was yet to wear out its welcome.

Besides which, as much as a part of her liked the thought of resuming her training - the idea unsettled the rest of her, strayed far too close to a line she did not want to cross, and the last thing she wanted was to risk ruining everything she'd worked for over nothing more than a little empty flattery.

( _You can control yourself_ , that part of her that she hated most tried to insist. _We'll be alright._ )

-

Another opportunity that their stay planetside afforded them was deliveries to the apartment; all for Quinn, of course, though most were predictable in their content. The one that got Eirn's attention, though, was made on a drab afternoon - came from Baras, of all people, which was enough by itself to provoke her wary curiosity, even if Quinn seemed initially unfazed.

It was a sheet of flimsi - and far more than that, simultaneously. It had been neatly preserved in a plain, simple frame that let the contents speak for itself, a rare choice for Sith. The contents did speak, though, in a way; neat ceremonial script, written in ink and in High Sith - an order of execution, inscribed by hand and using language that, as Eirn glanced over it, wouldn't have seemed out of place in an overwrought theatrical production. Most documents in the Empire - even the ones worth preserving - were written in Imperial Basic, but not this. It was not just meant only for Sith eyes, but was a statement in itself of Sith rule - of ancient Sith tradition, reaching back over a millennium.

'That's-!' Eirn started - recognising it immediately, or at least- the type of document. Her mother's Master had kept a replica of one on his study wall; Eirn remembered staring at it irritably while pretending that she couldn't overhear her mother arguing with him in the next room, and wishing she could set fire to it with her mind just to prove the older Sith wrong.

A Declaration of the Emperor's Will - hardly a rarity, among powerful Sith, but- well, not the sort of thing she'd have expected to see in the possession of the likes of Quinn. Not that this was a judgement on Quinn; he had the makings of a great Sith, but his standing in the Sith hierarchy was nothing in comparison to Baras - or even the late Rathari.

'A trophy,' Quinn replied, 'From Lord Rathari's effects. Lord Baras felt it appropriate that I take it, as he fell to my blade.'

Eirn couldn't help but feel concerned by that; not so much that Baras had taken a trophy, as that he'd then given it to his apprentice. Darth Baras, she'd long learned, did not do things out of the kindness of his heart; it was debatable that, anatomical realities aside, the man didn't even have such a thing.

'A very generous gift, my lord,' Eirn just replied - looking over it once more, before returning her attention to Quinn.

'Very,' Quinn just repeated, his own attention all on his newest trophy. 'I think,' he added, half to himself, 'I will keep this in quarters, on the ship.'

So, his personality-deprived quarters finally got a hint of personality, and it was an order of execution from the Emperor himself. Not concerning Rathari, of course; the order was dated well over three centuries ago. Everyone involved in it was likely long dead. Still, it was an ominous and slightly morbid touch - Sith to its very core, in that respect, though Eirn couldn't help but look at this entire situation with wary bemusement.

_And this is someone you're considering training with, Illte?_ ( _all the better to get back into practice, though, surely?_ )

-

She lay awake for far too much of the night, contemplating that; listening to the rain on the windows, and trying to work out - obvious moments of personal failure aside - how she'd ended up here to begin with.

-

Ominous gifts from Baras or no, Quinn was in a decidedly sour mood the following morning. Eirn had given up trying to predict what his morning moods would be; they'd generally improved since their leaving Nar Shaddaa, and all the more so when she'd conceded that medical attention was no longer necessary, but apparently he'd woken up that day in as foul a mood as the sky was. Attempts to placate him with caf were brusquely rebuffed, and Eirn was seriously contemplating offering him something to _eat_ when he abruptly changed the subject.

'What I would like, Lieutenant,' Quinn said - didn't snap, _barely_ , though a part of her still winced at his tone - 'Is to be able to contribute something to the war effort, instead of lingering here.'

It was a frustration that Eirn understood - sympathised with, even, as much as she wasn't certain that Quinn would take a comparison between their situations well.

'Of course, my lord,' she just replied - pausing, at that, and wondering, not for the first time, if what she was about to do was a remotely good idea. 'Though- if we don't have an active assignment, my lord-'

The look Quinn shot her was- impatient, in an early-morning sort of way, not to mention visibly irritated. 'What is it, Lieutenant?'

'It's- I was wondering, my lord,' Eirn managed - too far into this to back out, and desperate to do so, all the same, 'If I could- with your permission, my lord, I would like some time to go into the city. And- if I could borrow Vette.'

Which made Quinn frown, and not in a way that promised anything pleasant. 

'For what purpose?' he asked, studying her in his usual, critical manner.

She'd expected that; granted, if he had nothing here for her to attend to, then it would have felt unreasonable for any other authority to demand her presence - and reasons. Sith, though, were Sith - and Quinn, at that, was the Sith that _she_ answered to.

'Well,' she replied, unable to repress a nervous twitch of her stumpy browstalks (convinced, for half a moment, that Quinn had changed his mind and she was about to look extremely stupid), 'If I'm to going be training with you, my lord, I'll need to have appropriate gear. Imperial PT uniform isn't really suited to saber fighting, and I'd rather avoid more injuries, if I can.'

It took Quinn a moment - but he smiled, despite his mood. 'Very well, Lieutenant. But take your holo, as well. And an umbrella,' he added, glancing at the window.

'Of course,' Eirn replied, smiling a little - wondering if that last addition was Quinn's idea of humour, or just his own observation on the weather. 'Thank you, my lord.'

-

Vette complained, of course, all the way until the moment when Eirn asked if she'd have rather stayed in the apartment - stayed with Quinn. Her sulk was as inevitable as the rain, and Eirn ignored them both; deflected one with an umbrella, and partially defused the other with a stop at a favourite patisserie. They were stared at, of course - a Sith in Imperial uniform, and a Twi'lek in a high-collared coat, but Eirn did her best to ignore them, and Vette appeared to follow suit.

Sat at a corner table, though - with hot cocoa and fresh pastries, Vette's something crumbly and full of sugar, Eirn's more savoury, filled with preserve made from a local fruit \- she could almost pretend that the Twi'lek didn't seem to resent her at least as much as she seemed glad for company that wasn't Quinn. 

'You do realise,' Vette said, anyway - determined to make Eirn suffer, all the same, 'That his Imperial Grumpiness is just going to keep kicking your ass, right?'

'Perhaps,' Eirn mused, 'But you can't deny that you'd like to see me kick his.'

Vette just gave her a long, dry, cynical look for that. 'You really think he'd _let_ you?'

'I think,' Eirn replied, smiling a little to herself, 'That Sith underestimate people like me, and I _know_ ,' she added, 'That he conceded a round the last time we fought.' 

The truth of it was that she expected Quinn to change his mind or lapse on her training, sooner than treat her as an equal. If he'd wanted to abuse the advantages the Force gave him, though, then he would have done so in their initial bout, and probably wouldn't have asked her for a rematch. Ba'al certainly hadn't; he'd done everything in his power to avoid her, following their match, and she'd gone from offended to amused by this while still coming down from the cocktail of medication that had been pumped into her during her kolto nap.

As for what Quinn actually _wanted_ , Eirn could only assume it was a partner to keep his own skills from dulling; if he took an apprentice, she fully expected her role in this to disappear. Still, she could turn this to her own advantage - use the opportunity to get back into practice, to perhaps work on building her own alliance with the Sith, and - like it had been when she was a teenager - use it as a vent for her inevitable frustrations that was less likely to get her arrested than dealing with those frustrations with her fists.

'Yeah, well,' Vette harrumphed, 'I ain't gonna hold my breath.'

'It's probably just as well,' Eirn mused - smiling to herself, a little. Pushing her luck, a _lot_. 'You're blue enough as it is.'

Vette, apparently also pushing her luck, threw a sugar cube at her for that; it hit her square in the forehead, before bouncing unceremoniously under the table. Eirn just dissolved into undignified giggles, while Vette stared at her in confused indignation.

-

On their return to the apartment, Quinn wasn't just out of his sanctum, but apparently waiting for their return - because he immediately appeared, much to Eirn's surprise, and more than a little disconcertion.

'Lieutenant! Excellent timing,' he started - immediately putting Eirn on edge, and she'd barely crossed the threshold.

(Vette, of course, ignored the two Sith entirely - disappearing off into the apartment, leaving a slightly damp trail behind her)

'My lord?' she just replied - trying to start to scold Vette for traipsing sodden footprints all over Quinn's hallways, and losing track of that thought when the Sith interrupted her.

'I've been speaking with Lord Baras. We've new information on Karr's secret weapon, and I want to depart immediately.' Quinn was- animated, pacing excitably. Apparently he'd been enjoying their downtime almost as much as Eirn had, though it was a speculation she kept to herself.

Karr, though... well, this was inevitable. Eirn just hoped that they didn't end up having to face a Jedi Master. Quinn was- well, he was Sith, but that just meant he had even more of a capacity for overestimating himself than she did.

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - grateful that Vette was absent, if only because it spared her rolled eyes. 'Where to, if- you don't mind me asking?'

'For now,' Quinn replied, half distracted by the damp footprints on his floor, 'The spaceport. As for after that-'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading c:


	9. Chapter 9

There were any number of things that did not fill Eirnhaya with glee at the thought of heading to, of all places, Tatooine. The heat, for one thing - the sand that the Imperial database promised, the untamed dunes, the fact that the natives seemed to hate the Empire at least as much as they hated the Republic, and unspoken, lurking threat of _Jedi_ (of Karr - of Baras's rivalry, and the fact that Quinn was being wielded as the old man's weapon).

That it meant a long period of time in hyperspace was the icing on the Imperial-cake-substitute; not so much because she had any particular hatred of hyperspace (it was still preferable to Kaas - _far_ preferable to Quinn's apartment) but because it meant Quinn and Vette trapped in each other's close proximity, and the ensuing pleasant atmosphere.

Eirn was hiding-not-hiding at the conference room table, studying an Imperial medical manual and making a series of her own meandering notes. Twi'leki anatomy was not exactly a standard feature of the army's medic syllabus, and while Eirn had picked up bits and pieces during her time in Sobrik, she'd resolved that _bits and pieces_ wasn't going to cut it if she was actually supposed to be Vette's medic. For all that the Twi'lek was usually, in her own words, 'too fast to hit', Eirn knew that this was a lucky streak that could only last for so long.

Her concentration was suffering, though; her shipmates were getting along as well as ever, a conversation in the common area having devolved into another argument about Vette's collar. Eirn didn't know how the argument had gotten to that point, and wasn't sure she wanted to. Quinn seemed as amenable to compromise as any Sith, and Vette was- well, she was, too. Eirn would happily have indulged Vette's request, were she able - would have given the Twi'lek her freedom altogether, a view she was certain Quinn didn't share.

'I have told you,' Quinn was replying, tersely, 'Time and again, that when you have shown you can behave-'

'I do behave! Just ask Eir-'

'-This is exactly what I am talking about, Vette. The Lieutenant is an Imperial officer, and deserving of your respect.'

'How am I being disrespectful?! She _said_ I can use her name! Ask her that, too, if you can talk to her for five minutes without scaring the piss out of her-'

'-Which is another prime example of your disrespect.'

' _Fine! Geez!_ ' Vette turned and stamped off, at that - likely disappearing into the crew quarters, and probably would have slammed the door behind her, were she able. Eirn couldn't help but wince, despite the lack of slammed doors - Vette's intent was clear enough, and Quinn's mood was never buoyant after such confrontations.

Normally, he would slink off to his quarters to- do whatever it was he did in there, leaving Eirn to deal with all inevitable fallout. Now, though, he apparently had a different idea - instead deciding to join her, stalking into the conference room and, without so much as a greeting, took a seat opposite her.

'Lieutenant.'

Which made Eirn wince - wonder if he'd come in here to pick a fight with her, too, or simply wanted someone to take his mood out on. In either case, she wished he would take it up with the droid - even if its servile fear was programmed in, a fact she knew that the most sadistic Sith would find- how was it Ba'al had put it? _Boring_.

'My lord,' Eirn replied - wondering, for a moment, if he expected her to weigh in when this happened - on _his_ side, as repulsive an idea as that seemed.

'Tell me,' Quinn began, launching - as always - straight into his interrogation, 'I know you overheard everything. Was Vette telling the truth?'

'I did, my lord,' Eirn replied - adding, 'I know that it's not- strictly protocol, my lord. But-' she added - pausing abruptly when she ran out of words she felt confident adding to it.

Quinn didn't prompt her to finish that thought; if anything, he ignored, scowling and muttering something inaudible to himself. After half a moment, though, he turned his attention - and that yellowed, analytical gaze - back on Eirn, studying her intently for a long, unpleasant moment.

'This situation with Vette bothers you, Lieutenant.'

A statement, not a question - an accusation, if anything, and Eirn was perfectly happy to let it hang in the air, unacknowledged. Quinn was glaring at her, though - his expression as accusatory as his words, and every millimetre as critical.

'It- I-' Eirn started - immediately unsure she should be saying anything, even as she hated her cowardice. Quinn's glare didn't help any; it was almost a dare in itself (a dare, and a criticism; of her disagreement with his actions, of her reluctance to stand up for her beliefs).

'Permission- to speak freely, my lord?' she just managed, eventually - hardly daring to breathe as she waited for his answer, and a part of her just kept hoping he would tell her to shut up.

'I wouldn't have asked your opinion if I didn't want to hear it, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - ever more irritated.

Well, he hadn't _asked_ anything, but Eirn bit back that response before it could gain any traction. 'I- it- does, my lord. It's- slavery is- unnecessary, my lord, and- crude, and- _cruel_.'

Quinn actually looked offended at that - which made a near-instinctual pang of fear curl itself around Eirn's stomach, ice-cold and entirely leaden.

'You think me _cruel_ , Lieutenant?'

'You are... not as vindictive as many Sith, my lord. But-' Eirn started - was she really doing this? Here, now? On her own - defenceless (as though she could ever truly defend herself against a Sith), cornered and with nowhere she could retreat-

( _breathe, Illte_ )

'But?' Quinn prompted her - already audibly annoyed, but apparently not willing to let her escape without sharing her opinion.

'But,' Eirn repeated - glancing down to her datapad, for a moment, before making herself look back to Quinn. 'When it comes to Vette, my lord, you are... dismissive. You say that you want her to behave, but- with respect, my lord, I've never seen you tell her _how_ you want her to behave. She can't- be expected to meet a standard if she doesn't know what it is. And-'

Quinn was glaring, but said nothing; he didn't _need_ to say anything, in Eirn's estimation, though the silence that resulted didn't make her feel any better.

'-You speak to her like she's- stupid. Which- you know she's not, my lord, or you wouldn't rely on her for your slicing. I-'

How was it Vette had put it? _I respect him as much as he respects me. More, probably._

'You don't- show her any respect at all, my lord. Or- any- gratitude, for anything she does. I- one of the reasons I- asked if I could- be assigned to you, my lord, is that- when you were on Balmorra, I- this- probably sounds silly to you, my lord,' she added, sighing, 'But- you- treated me with respect. At least- more than most Sith, who just look at me and- don't even see me as an Imperial, but as a- _thing_. But- when you speak to Vette, it's like- you just see _her_ like that. My lord.'

As though Sith talking down to their inferiors - to _aliens_ \- was anything new under the sun, and expecting any level of decent treatment from them was reasonable. Eirn had been given more than one well-intentioned, slightly patronising speech from fellow Imperials regarding her expectations of Sith behaviour, ranging from the suggestion she just accept things as they are to the warning that, one day, she'd demand that standard from a Sith who had no compunction against rewarding perceived insubordination with summary execution. That she then wanted that standard extended beyond Imperials - well, there were reasons that Sobrik had been so lonely.

Quinn, if the look he was giving her was any indication, felt similarly to those Imperials - though he was more offended than he was patronising, and endlessly more volatile.

'Vette is here to serve me,' he replied, dryly, 'As are you, Lieutenant. Or do you contest that, too?'

That knot of cold fear turned into a icy wave, at that, which ran right through her, before not so much evaporating as lingering unpleasantly in her extremities. He was accusing her of challenging him, yes, but it was more than just that.

'All in the Empire serve the Sith, my lord. That's... just how things are,' Eirn replied, carefully. One thing among thousands that grated at her; that the best she could hope for was to serve, even as it was that very service that kept her among the living.

'But,' she continued, 'even someone like me- has more choice, and better reward, in their service than someone like Vette. I- don't like slavery. It's not necessary. We say we're better than the Republic, but even the Republic don't treat people like- droids. We say we're stronger than the Republic, but- with respect, my lord, crushing people who can't fight back doesn't prove you're strong, it proves you're _weak_ , that you can only- stand up to people when they can't stand up for themselves.'

Which, of course, was always a sentiment that Sith - orthodox Sith, at any rate - reacted well to. Quinn seemed to have taken it as well as any other; that was, he was looking at her as though he'd not just found her under his shoe, but she'd turned out to be sympathetic to the Jedi.

'Vette,' Quinn replied, darkly, 'Is a thief, and a criminal.'

'She also saved your life, my lord,' Eirn replied - more abruptly than she'd intended, but there it was. 'During our last mission,' she added, at his uncomprehending glare. 'She pulled you out of the Jedi trap, patched you up, and called me to assist you. If she hadn't,' Eirn added, 'You could have been waking up on Coruscant, if at all. My lord.'

That idea apparently hadn't occurred to Quinn, because his expression twitched irritably as he pondered it - glowering at Eirn all the while, as though she was personally responsible for some great evil.

'I don't know how Vette came into your service, my lord,' Eirn added, 'And- I know it's probably none of my business. But- in the time I've been here- she can be disrespectful towards you at times,' (Quinn snorted at that, but did not interrupt), 'But I've- never had- I mean, when I've asked her to assist me, she's always cooperated. Even with things- outside her normal role. She helped me a lot,' Eirn added, 'When you were- incapacitated, after our last mission. And I've never had any problem with her.'

Other than insisting on calling her _Eir_ , but that was hardly the worst way her name had been mangled. Non-Sith failing to pronounce her name correctly was an inevitability; most _Sith_ didn't even bother trying. If she was honest, Eirn quietly dreaded the day when Quinn attempted it - if only because human Sith mangling her heritage was second only to human Sith addressing her as a _runt_ in things that provoked her to rage.

'So what would you have me do, Lieutenant?' Quinn might have phrased it as a question, but his tone made it clear this was a challenge - a _dare_ for her to continue questioning his methods and authority, in the way that all sadists in the Empire did. Quinn might have been less sadistic than some - than many, but that was not, by itself, a great achievement.

'My lord?' Eirn paused, at that - not even sure what he was asking - if he was being sarcastic, or just handing her the rope with which to hang herself. The latter seemed more likely, given what she'd been coming out with - heresy, definitely. Treason, possibly. Defiance of her Sith? Almost certainly, and a punishable offence by itself.

The look he gave her, though, was withering; his patience had been thin enough to begin with, but had apparently all but evaporated. That he wanted to continue hearing her opinion at all unnerved Eirn deeply - Quinn had never shown any sign of being anything but an orthodox Sith, one or two minor heresies aside, and Eirn knew that she'd hardly have be the first political dissident to have their citizenship evaporate over a difference of opinion with a Sith. Any protection Baras might have extended had, she realised, probably expired when she signed on with his apprentice - it would be impossible for him to see her decision as anything other than what it was.

'I- would never presume to tell you what to do, my lord-' she started to add - a deference too late for most of what she'd done, but made out of habit, all the same.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn interrupted, ' _answer the question_.'

Eirn just swallowed, at that - hated the spot she'd been put on (the spot she'd put herself on - _you_ knew _he had a slave, Illte, and you still signed on with him_ -)

'If you won't grant Vette her freedom, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'I- at the very least,' she managed, 'she's- the collar is- unnecessarily cruel. If you- I've never seen you even threaten to use it,' she added, 'But- the fact it's still there is a- threat, all the time. And those collars- cause injury just by being worn, my lord. It's in their design. Which- I know some people would say she might deserve, but- if she was in an Imperial prison, my lord, even they're not collared like that. It's- needless. In- my opinion, my lord,'

'And who are you, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, 'To deem it _needless_?'

'With all possible due respect, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'You- ordered that I share my views.' An insolent response, perhaps, but an accurate one.

Quinn just snorted at it, though - and continued glaring, his total lack of amusement at this conversation bearing down on her like every bad decision she'd ever made, all at once. The fact that he'd imposed on her - had ordered her to share her views - was irrelevant; he was, after all, still Sith. When Quinn stood, at that, it was a sharp, harsh movement - done without even so much as a polite disentanglement from the conversation.

'My lord?' Eirn added, though, as Quinn started to go - getting herself another annoyed glare from the Sith.

' _What,_ ' he replied - not even trying to hide his irritation that she not only apparently defied him, defied the _Empire_ , but was having the nerve to drag this out even more.

'I don't- I know that- my opinions are unpopular. And I'm- probably out of line for even- having them. But please, my lord- they're- _my_ opinions. Don't- please don't- punish Vette for them, my lord. She's done nothing to deserve that,' Eirn added - finished, slightly uncertainly, and hoping she hadn't just left herself wide open for unpleasant retaliation.

Quinn stared at her as she talked, his expression not doing anything to reassure her; certainly it hadn't improved any from having found her underneath his shoe, and arguably had only become more critically judgemental.

'I will take your request under consideration, Lieutenant.'

That, apparently, was the best possible answer he was willing to provide; was the best that Eirn knew she could hope for, and she realised even as he said it that whatever happened next, she was going to end up regretting it.

'Thank you, my lord,' she just replied, though - a little numbly, a little light-headedly, a lot regretting her decision to throw in with any Sith who'd earned apprenticeship from Baras.

Quinn didn't reply to that, for which she was actually rather grateful - he just left, stalking out in a manner that almost begged the doors to slam behind him. Eirn listened to him leave - heard the door to his quarters open and shut abruptly, and only then let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. Whatever energy had been keeping her upright expired along with that breath, though - and she collapsed onto the table, burying her head in her arms and letting out a long, unhappy, groan.

-

The Tatooine port authority was, comparatively, a joy to deal with - red tape that didn't care about her status and opinions, just the ship's registration details and clearances. Vette, of course, was still holed up in crew quarters - had been hiding in her bunk, when Eirn had gone to check on her, the privacy curtain pulled to and Eirn's tentative rapping on her bunk frame responded to with a heartfelt _Piss off_.

Quinn, equally, was nowhere to be found, and Eirn was left to assume that he was sulking in his sanctum. The thought of having to deal with them - with Quinn, primarily - on top of whatever the planet had to throw at them did not fill Eirn with joy. She was almost considering jumping ship, and leaving them to it - withdrawing as many credits as she could from her accounts at the spaceport, and thumbing a lift to literally anywhere with whoever would agree to smuggle her out of Imperial space. It was mostly the thought of Baras that stopped her - not any loyalty to the man, but the knowledge that his web of spies was out there, and desertion was a crime that had only one penalty.

_Like all the other crimes you keep committing, Illte. If you're dead anyway, you could at least find some better company._

She didn't, though - just landed and secured the ship, navigated the bureaucratic maze of the Tatooine Port Authority over the comm, and wondered what could be so desperately vital to Karr - and therefore Baras - on this sun-baked dustball.

_And our great leader still hasn't bothered to brief us on whatever this secret weapon is._

Whatever it was, Eirn just hoped it was worth it - and that it actually contributed to the war effort, rather than Baras's own grudges and machinations. The latter seemed more likely; Baras, Eirn had eventually realised, was quite unlike the heretics and academics she'd grown up around. Quinn had seemed like a better sort - _seemed_ like, in the quiet of her Sobrik offices, and she silently reminded herself that she seemed to have misjudged the man almost entirely.

'Welcome to Tatooine,' she just muttered to herself - glaring out the viewport at the hangar, as though it was personally to blame for all her woes. 'Passengers are advised to watch out for incoming tantrums at all times.'

'Problem, Lieutenant?'

Quinn announced himself with a challenge, naturally - startling her, equally naturally, though once she'd glanced at him, she turned her attention back to world outside.

'We've arrived at Tatooine, my lord,' she just replied, too tired and too annoyed to make excuses for her mood. She was probably going to regret this later, but she'd already handed Quinn more than enough ammunition for him to torpedo not just her career, but her citizenship with it. That there would be an unpleasant irony in that second one had not escaped her notice, and Eirn just found herself hoping that Quinn was too enamoured with her skin to go that far.

'And you didn't notify me?' Quinn, of course, was his usual, critical, judgemental, self. Not for the first time, Eirn wished she'd seen this side of him in Sobrik. Wished she hadn't been so stupid as to hope Quinn wasn't a _Sith_.

'You were in your quarters, my lord,' Eirn replied - holed up in there with an order of execution and a foul temper. 'I didn't want to disturb you.'

A reasonable response, even if Quinn just replied to it with a dry snort. Eirn was content to leave it at that; she was too annoyed to be subservient, but could at least manage _silent_. It helped that she hadn't moved from the pilot's seat - could look out at the spaceport hangar, not ignoring Quinn but not truly acknowledging him, either. She could already tell this was going to be an enjoyable mission - hot weather, bad tempered Sith, and a whole lot of no idea what they were doing there.

'Briefing is in twenty minutes,' Quinn added, his tone every millimetre as sharp as before. 'I expect you and Vette to be present.'

He turned and left before she could even manage an unenthusiastic 'yes, my lord,' - never mind the sigh that followed it.

-

Finding Vette wasn't the hard part - it never was, even leaving aside the small layout of Quinn's ship. The Twi'lek had very little that was hers, but her bunk space was one of those things that Eirn, at least, attempted to respect. Life in the military meant little personal space and privacy, but Vette had even less than that,

'Vette?' she started, though - rapping gently on the bunk frame with her knuckles, and bracing herself for an abrupt response.

'Piss off.'

Vette sounded about as eager for company as she had earlier, and under almost any other circumstance, Eirn would have left her be. Quinn had been clear in his instructions, though, and clearer in his mood.

'Are you alright?' It was a genuine enquiry, too; the Twi'lek always seemed resilient enough at first glance, but Eirn was rapidly learning that first glances seemed to tell her nothing useful or accurate about this crew.

'I said _piss off_ ,' Vette snapped - a _no_ if there ever had been. Given a choice, Eirn would have gladly let her be, but orders were orders.

It was probably just was well, Eirn reflected, that Quinn wasn't here. There was no possible way that the other Sith involving himself in the situation would improve it any.

'We've arrived on Tatooine, Vette. Lord Quinn expects us both for a briefing in fifteen minutes.'

Nothing. No movement, no words. At least, nothing that Eirn could hear, and she doubted that Vette would appreciate it if she forced her way in. That the Twi'lek had very little just meant that she likely clung to what she had fiercely - a feeling Eirn could understand.

'I'm- going to put on some fresh caf,' Eirn added - deciding that, if nothing else, it would give Vette a little more space. 'I'll- be back in a few minutes.'

-

Vette had emerged by the time Eirn returned - accepted the caf grudgingly, even if she glowered at Eirn in the same moment. Eirn couldn't help but feel judged by her - no, _blamed_ , it was definitely blame, and the likelihood of anything about this mission ending well went down another ten percent. Quinn wasn't in a much better mood, when he emerged from his quarters - barely acknowledged Vette, other than to glower at her, and wasn't much more civil to his Lieutenant.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn began - addressing her directly, as he began, 'You may recall that I told you a Jedi informant was responsible for unearthing Lord Baras's spies on Balmorra and Nar Shaddaa. That Jedi is not Nomen Karr himself, but Karr's padawan. We know little about them, other than they somehow managed to find Imperial spies that, until Karr's involvement, had gone utterly undetected.'

_Oh. Great. A Jedi. Possibly several Jedi. This gets better and better._

'Lord Baras has come into information that Karr's padawan trained on Tatooine. One of his agents here has turned up a lead on where their training here took place - under the guidance of a Jedi Master named Yonlach. My mission,' he finished, 'Is to find this Jedi, find out what he knows about the padawan, and then destroy him.'

Eirn kept her expression steady as Quinn talked - listened to him, turning over this information and rummaging through what she already knew. Tracking down the Jedi was one thing - destroying him was another, especially if he was a fully-fledged Jedi _Master_. Quinn didn't appear intimidated by the thought at all - either he was overconfident, or too annoyed to have given this proper consideration.

_Or pretending, though I don't know why he'd bother. Vette wouldn't trust him to tell her the time, and..._

'If either of you have anything to say,' Quinn added sourly, apparently oblivious to her train of thought, 'Then now is the time. Otherwise, gear up. I want to be off this inhospitable rock as soon as possible.'

'Actually- my lord-' Eirn started - getting herself a glare for her trouble, in the process.

She'd anticipated this - had anticipated Quinn wouldn't take her speaking up well, even before their earlier conversation. Now, though - now, he was looking at her like she was a particularly troublesome cadet, about to find herself on punishment detail no matter what she eventually did.

'What is it, Lieutenant?' he replied, though - his tone sour and his words, almost a _dare_.

Eirn almost wanted to mumble that it was nothing - to retract her words and slink away somewhere to find her gear and pray that her concerns would be for nothing. She soldiered on, though - swallowing back that impulse, and taking a long, deep breath before she began.

'It's- Tatooine, my lord, is a desert world- as you know. It's- hot. I- Imperial medical guidelines recommend that if- out in the desert, we avoid the hottest parts of the day, but- those guidelines- vary, based on species. Sith and Twi'leks are affected- differently to humans. I've prepared a recommended schedule, based on local weather forecasts and- Imperial medical guidelines. If our mission does not require outdoor work, it- can be- I mean, the work hours can be extended. It has both- local and Imperial Standard times, my lord,' she finished, offering him the datapad she'd been working on.

Which was always an assertion that was going to go down well - that the non-human contingent of Quinn's merry band was going to cause their mission to be unavoidably delayed, unless he cared little enough about them to sentence them to illness and injury. When Quinn took the datapad, he _snatched_ it - scrolled rapidly over her recommendations, before turning his glare back to her.

'Very well, Lieutenant. I will take this under consideration.'

Well, she'd tried.

'This is not an excuse, however, to sit out the mission. You are both to join me in the field,' Quinn continued, ' _Without_ complaint.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - sitting the mission out hadn't even been her goal, so much as avoiding making anyone ill. Still, Sith - of the Force-sensitive variety - had never been known for their consideration of others, and she was coming rapidly to understand that Quinn was just as typical a Sith as any other, underneath his occasionally polite facade.

 _Is mum ever this bad to her apprentices? To her students, her officers? To_ anyone _?_

'And gear up,' Quinn added, making a dismissive gesture. 'We're leaving to make contact with Lord Baras's informant as soon as possible.'

-

Baras's contact did not, at the very least, make them trek through the desert to meet her - or even, for that matter, Mos Ila's spaceport. Eirn couldn't help but be a little unnerved by her prompt appearance in their hangar, and could only guess the woman had been notified to expect them - if not by Baras himself, then by his ill-tempered apprentice.

Sharack Breev didn't look to be a slaver, either, which immediately made her an improvement on Setsyn. Granted, Breev also seemed almost as prone to theatrics as Baras, but Eirn could only suppose that was either a quality Baras looked for in his servants, or an inevitable side-effect of serving the man for too long. (What this said about herself was not something she wanted to give too much thought; Eirn had never felt particularly linguistically gifted, as much as her last girlfriend had insisted otherwise, but then she was hardly a prime example of Baras's staff, either)

Of course, it couldn't be as simple as _here's the Jedi, have fun killing him my lord_. Breev's own information was supplemented by another local, who made his home on the other side of an area controlled by the Exchange - who, in turn, were sore over losing control of Mos Ila to the Empire.

('This won't,' Quinn managed - given Eirn a very dry, dour glare, 'Be a problem, I trust, Lieutenant?'

Eirn couldn't help but feel criticised, even as she'd just been attempting to do her job. 'Not if we're quick, my lord,' she replied, defiant all the same. 'I'm certain that you'll make short work of anyone getting in our way.' _Especially_ , she mused to herself, keeping her thoughts as private as she could, _if you take that temper out on them, instead of me and Vette._

Quinn snorted, but had no reply to that - just turned sharply, before striding towards the spaceport's exit)

Breev's contact, Jeef, seemed just as prone to theatrics as Breev, and - standing in the man's hut, listening to the pair of them put whole legions of amateur scriptwriters to shame while she discreetly scanned Quinn for injury, Eirn revised her theory. _Perhaps_ , she amended, _it's the sun. Suns. Too much heat, and not enough anything else._

Theatrics or no, though, Jeef did come with something approaching useful information. There was some ancient Jedi ritual involving sand demons and rolling around in blood in order to achieve enlightenment, which apparently their ultimate target - Karr's mystery padawan - had undergone. Eirn had to admit that finding enlightenment by covering oneself in the blood of a fallen enemy and terrorising the locals sounded more like a Sith ritual than anything else, even as she was hardly an expert on Jedi.

'Is this really necessary?' Quinn didn't sound convinced - though what of, exactly, Eirn didn't like to guess. 'These Sand People aren't all that advanced.'

Jeef, though, was unmoved. 'The suns of Tatooine can chase away even the darkest shadows, stranger, and the people of the sand have endured far worse than mere shadows. Slay the beast, or find some other way, as you please - but the only blood that will purchase what it is you seek is that of the demon.'

Which annoyed Quinn, of course, though how much was the insult and how much was the melodrama was a question for the ages.

'And they will show me the path the Jedi took? You're certain about this?'

'So the legends say,' Jeef replied, entirely unfazed.

Quinn continued to seem unimpressed by this entire story, though Eirn had to wonder if this was still his lingering tantrum from earlier.

'Very well,' he replied, though - sounding only marginally more convinced by this than he had by Eirn's unwanted opinions on Vette. 'If nothing else, I suppose we shall see how true this legend actually is.'

-

Stepping outside of Jeef's stone hut was a relief for exactly as long as it took for Eirn to remember that there were dead Exchange littering the path back towards Mos Ila. Some of their comrades had, in the meantime, arrived - looked to be trying to haul the dead away, though they fled as soon as they spotted Quinn, making them either smarter or more cowardly than their dear departed colleagues. Eirn wasn't sorry to see them go, if she was truthful - it meant they didn't have to slog through another firefight, if nothing else.

'My lord,' Eirn started, hesitantly, 'If I may-?'

Quinn's armour meant that any glare was lost inside his helmet, though his tone made up for that. 'No, Lieutenant,' he replied, 'You may not.'

Which made her wince, and which a part of her insisted that she defy. She didn't, though - just bowed her head in a silent apology, and bit her tongue in irritation.

'I have no desire,' Quinn added, 'To spend any more time on this planet than absolutely necessary. Outpost Varath is reachable by shuttle, and from there, it looks to be a short journey to the coordinates Ms. Breev provided.'

Which, in turn, made Eirn groan silently; it had been a long time since she'd eaten, and a longer time since she'd slept, and crawling around in Tatooine's unrelenting heat on top of that-

'Are you _serious_? It's like. A hundred degrees out here, and both of you are dressed for an Imp funeral. _In space_. And I am _not_ hauling your asses around if you get heatstroke.' Vette, of course, felt less restraint in making her feelings known.

'I am entirely serious,' Quinn snapped, 'And I do not recall asking for your opinion, _Vette_.'

'My lord,' Eirn started - trying to deflect Quinn away from Vette before this got any worse, 'Vette's- right that- neither of us are dressed ideally for Tatooine's climate. If- we're to venture further out, I would- strongly recommend that we either- revise our gear, or- wait until the day has cooled.' Or both, preferably.

The moments that passed after that went far too slowly, and not simply because of the fact that Tatooine's suns did far too good a job of keeping this world heated. Eirn could feel herself sweating unpleasantly in her armour; at the very least, she wanted to switch her usual closed helmet for an open one. It would mean being stared at, yes, but stares were better than feeling sweat attempting accumulate in the places where her tendrils broke her skin.

'Fine,' Quinn snapped - relenting, apparently, though Eirn knew better than to hope his mood might sweeten any for her insubordination. 'But my original orders remain the same. I want to be off this rock as soon as is humanly possible. _Without_ ,' he added, 'Further argument.'


	10. Chapter 10

It wasn't until early the next morning, local time, that they actually managed to set out from Varath. Imperial Standard time made it the early afternoon, though Eirn was relieved to note that the barracks at Varath didn't follow strict protocol on adherence to an IST routine; breakfast was able to consist of its normal Imperial-caf-substitute and Imperial-waffle-substitute, even if it also came with more company than she was accustomed to. Vette was sticking to her like glue, though - not that she could blame the younger woman. The Empire was unfriendly to aliens at the best of times, and nothing about Vette's experience, Eirn reflected, could be described as _positive_.

Early mornings on Tatooine were about as warm as Eirn was happy getting, even with her revised gear. The fact that she knew the day was just going to get hotter did not fill her with enthusiasm, and that was before Quinn had appeared from the private rooms he'd secured for himself. He'd apparently already eaten, too, because he didn't stop to collect anything for himself - just sat at the table opposite her, apparently choosing to ignore the way Vette scowled when he joined them.

'My lord,' Eirn just greeted him - wondering what she'd done wrong to deserve an audience this early, and if she could make up for it without having to move too much from her seat.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, 'Vette. I trust you're prepared for the day?'

'Ready, willing, and able, my lord,' Eirn replied - though the fatigue in her tone undermined the words somewhat.

'Good,' Quinn just said, though - shooting Vette a dark look for her rolled eyes, but mostly ignoring the Twi'lek. 'I've arranged for use of a speeder. You'll be driving, Lieutenant. I trust you've familiarised yourself with our destination?'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn replied - quietly relieved that they wouldn't be trekking across the desert, if she was honest. She'd done her best to plot a route that avoided known Exchange territory or local hunting grounds, but the desert was still mostly an unknown - a hot, hostile unknown, that in truth she would be happier not knowing in the slightest.

'Good,' Quinn repeated - glancing between the two of them with an energy that seemed as nervous as it was annoyed. 'I will see you both in the garages in fifteen minutes. I expect you both to be prepped and ready to depart immediately.'

With that, he was gone - striding out of the officer's mess while Eirn watched him leave, wondering - at that - if his mood was going to stay something approaching neutral, or if she should begin bracing herself for further Sith tantrums.

'Eir,' Vette started, once he'd gone, 'Do you _ever_ get tired of kissing his ass?'

'As long as I don't have to _actually_ kiss his ass,' Eirn replied, 'No.' There were worse fates, after all. Besides, if nodding and yes-my-lord got her back into his good graces, or at least out of his bad ones, then it was a price she was- not happy to pay, necessarily, but at the very least willing.

'Oh,' Vette squawked, ' _gross!_ Eir!'

Eirn, though, just chuckled to herself at Vette's disgust. 'You're the one who brought it up. Come on,' she added, standing to leave, 'We probably shouldn't keep Lord Quinn waiting.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Vette drawled - entirely predictably, even as she followed Eirn. 'Whatever. _Kiss-ass_.'

-

Even with a speeder, the caves that Breev sent them to was over an hour from Varath, over ground which was as hard and rocky as it was anything else. Eirn had read up on the planet on their trip in hyperspace, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for the bleak reality. It was nothing like the stifling humidity of the Kaas jungles, which in the wet season could almost be cut with a knife. It was dry, far drier than Balmorra summer had been - _baked_ dry, earth compacted into rock by a pair of unrelenting suns. Simultaneously less awful than Kaas had been, the dry air sucking any moisture off Eirn's exposed skin as soon as she sweat it out, but - at the same time - so much worse, like a weight comprised of heat that only became more oppressive as the day wore on. 

(She was at least prepared enough to have suncream; she had, at least, managed to persuade Vette to hold still for long enough to make sure the Twi'lek had enough applied to her own exposed skin, and wasn't sure if she considered Quinn's refusal to break his habit of covering himself entirely to be a blessing or a curse)

The cave system the so-called demon called home was tucked almost out of sight, a rocky tunnel strewn with bones on a planet full of rocky tunnels strewn with bones. Not that this made them any less ominous (not that this made Eirn want to sit outside with the speeder any less, despite the unrelenting sun). 

Quinn, of course, seemed unfazed - striding ahead as if he hadn't seen them, and Eirn wondered for a moment if he even had. An advantage, she supposed, of the closed helmet; his expression was utterly impossible to read, and his body language was as deliberately inscrutable as any practised Sith. It was a display, she could only assume, for her and Vette's benefit - if only because they seemed to be the only other sentient creatures in the vicinity. The cave's tunnels were as littered with the remains of various creatures as its entrance was, and while Quinn seemed unfazed (the smaller bones crunching underneath his feet, while larger ones were stepped over or avoided altogether) Eirn couldn't help but grimace a little. Vette, of course, trailed behind her; scuffing her heels on the floor, at least until she realised she was scuffing bones.

The cave system was apparently large - the cave itself was large and airy and, as they headed further in, remarkably cool, even if this was offset somewhat by the fact they'd descended into pitch darkness. Eirn's helmet had a torch of its own, and Quinn, of course, had his lightsaber - but the red glow of the latter hardly made a bone-strewn cave a _more_ pleasant place to be. Eirn was starting to wonder if they'd even entered the right cave - checked and rechecked the coordinates Breev had given them several times, and was only put off further by the eerie blue glow given off by her datapad's screen. 

They were on the right path, though; Eirn knew _that_ much when they rounded a corner and Quinn paused abruptly - with Eirn and Vette following suit, and for good reason.

The Sand Demon lived up to its name; Eirn wasn't uncertain for a moment that it wasn't an _actual_ demon - some Force-fuelled _thing_ conjured by a Dark artisan. There was nothing mystical about this cave, though, at least not as far as she could tell - just rock and dust and sand and a six-legged creature that wouldn't have been out of place in a nightmare. It was lurking in sunlight that was improbably streaming from some gap in the rooftop; had been sunning itself in the midst of a dry and dusty cavern, and for a moment, Eirn could understand why a- well, why a _Sith_ , anyway, might find such a thing moving.

The demon itself was an- insect of some kind, by its appearance; Eirn discreetly took a holo for the report, even as she doubted Baras would care much to read it. It was stretched out in its improbable sunbeam; not napping, unfortunately, so much as preening itself in the daylight. It stood taller than Quinn - taller than any humanoid Eirn could think of, its carapace gleaming in the sunlight - glittering as it shifted, stamping its spiked feet into the rock hard enough to raise dust and sand. 

'Are we... seriously going to fight that thing?' Vette was keeping her voice down, at least, though it wasn't obvious if she was trying to avoid the demon's attention, or the insect's.

Eirn had to admit she wasn't thrilled by that thought, either - the creature looked more than a little fearsome, and the complete lack of use that the Imperial databases had been about the creature did little to reassure her. 

'On the contrary,' Quinn said - apparently having overhead her, 'If a mere padawan can quell this beast, then so can I.'

_Ah_ , Eirn mused, _this is a pride thing._ As typical a Sith motivation as they got - no Sith would ever want to admit being outplayed or outgunned by a Jedi, and especially not a learner. (Especially not a secret weapon, wielded by the nemesis of one's Master-)

'Uh-huh.' Vette sounded almost as confident in this as Eirn felt, though Eirn kept that as much to herself as she could.

Quinn, though, had gone back to ignoring them both - had strode up to the creature, not backing down for a moment in the face of its angry hissing. The demon was stamping its feet, as Quinn approached - snarled, if insects could be said to do such a thing, spittle flecking out of its mouth, before finally letting out an ugly roar that exposed row on row of sharp and unforgiving teeth in its maw.

Quinn, though, did not appear to so much as flinch - he stood his ground, not even pacing on his spot. The demon held its own ground, in turn; snarling, as it shifted its weight from leg to leg, its eyestalks fixated on the intruder in front of it. 

The intruder, though, was undeterred - crossing his arms defiantly, but otherwise remaining still as the creature hissed at him again, baring its teeth - snapping at the air in front of the Sith, who just remained motionless.

('Is he... hoping to stare it to death?' Vette murmured - keeping her voice far lower this time.

'If it means we don't have to fight,' Eirn replied, just as quietly, 'I'm all for it.')

The demon snapped and hissed again, though - stamping its feet at Quinn, who held his ground all the while. It didn't seem to know quite what to do in response to this faceless, motionless intruder - pulled back, hissing warily all the while as it seemed to reassess its faceless, noiseless intruder. 

The sand demon apparently didn't appreciate that, though, because it roared again - this time not giving Quinn any time to react before lunging at him, its pincers flashing in the sunlight it had been bathing in as they attempted to close on the Sith. Quinn had already moved, though - and raised his saber, making it a barrier the beast had to cross as much as it was his weapon to wield.

('Shit,' Eirn muttered, taking aim with her rifle and wishing that Quinn didn't keep putting himself between her and the enemy)

It couldn't be said to be a quick fight, even outnumbered as the demon was. It gave Quinn no quarter, swiping at him with its glittering pincers as he tried to dodge back out of its reach. The swipe caught him abruptly in the side - was stopped short in causing injury by Quinn's armour, though it threw him off balance enough that it broke his rhythm - made him stumble, his lightsaber hissing at it missed the demon and burned rock instead. Quinn was quick enough to right himself, though - striking at the beast as it tried to swipe at him, catching one of those pincers and slicing the end clean off, sending the cauterised chunk of insect flying one way as the demon sharply pulled its injured limb the other. The creature wasn't cowed by its injury, though - it _screamed_ , rearing its front pair of legs before lunging again at Quinn, who'd already moved (giving Eirn a shot, which she took - which missed as the creature lunged, glancing across its carapace but doing nothing, other than perhaps adding to its irritation)

(Vette, like Eirn, was hanging back - giving Quinn and the insect both a wide berth, not firing into the fray for the moment, and mostly looking like she wanted an excuse to keep _away_ from this encounter - not that Eirn entirely blamed her)

The sand demon wasn't put off in its attack by the wound in the slightest - if anything, it had redoubled its efforts, launching itself at Quinn and roaring as it lunged towards the Sith. He didn't let it get the chance it seemed to want to skewer him, though - instead reaching out and grabbing at the creature with the Force, catching it mid-lunge and holding it in place as he swiped at its remaining pincer, cutting clean through the prone claw, severing it entirely. The demon didn't so much roar, at that, as scream - an ear-splitting noise that made Eirn wince and grimace, even as she gritted her teeth and lined up another shot, this time at least managing to hit its carapace right on. The blaster bolt seared across the demon, leaving behind a nasty burn and the stink of singed keratin - and got the thing's attention, drawing its focus away from Quinn for long enough for the Sith to take full advantage of the distraction and close for the kill, his lightsaber slicking cleanly through the distracted insect's outstretched neck.

For a moment, the sand demon did not react - for a moment, Eirn was half convinced that they were about to get a demonstration that the thing's nervous system wasn't concentrated in its head. That moment passed, though, and the demon's corpse collapsed awkwardly under its own weight; six spindly legs, each folding out from under it more awkwardly than the last. 

For a further moment, it looked like Vette was going to say something - she even had her mouth open and a half-smirk in her expression before Eirn shot her a sharp look and her jaw closed had enough to _click_ audibly.

_So much_ , Eirn couldn't help but reflect, _for quelling it._ Still, Quinn likely wouldn't appreciate either of them rubbing it in - which was why she just tried to push the thought aside, instead reaching for her medical scanner as she cautiously approached the scene of Quinn's sort-of-victory.

Quinn was apparently not much the worse for his dance with the beast; there was bruising and minor swelling blossoming beneath his armour where he'd been struck, according to the scanner - but nothing that he hadn't survived before. He certainly gave no impression of discomfort as he moved (inspecting the damage he'd done the beast, and apparently looking for something), though Eirn knew as well as any Imperial medic that Sith were nothing if not practised in the art of acting uninjured.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn began, holding out an empty hand towards her - a gesture of- demand? 'Your vibroknife.'

'Uh- yes, my lord,' Eirn managed - who was already trying to juggle her rifle and her medical scanner, and ended up having to let her rifle hang awkwardly by its strap before she retrieved her vibroknife and offered it to Quinn, handle first. She was happy to hang back, though; part of her wasn't convinced the creature was entirely dead, but it wasn't just that. Something smelled unpleasant, and not just in the manner of excess sweat, and Eirn was starting to suspect that the culprit was the recently deceased oversized insect.

Quinn didn't thank her, of course - just took the blade before turning his attention back to the sand demon. He studied its carapace intently for a moment, before take the vibroknife and reopening a cut he'd already made with his lightsaber- a place where the wound had been seared shut by the plasma of its blade, plunging the vibroknife into the demon's burned flesh. 

It was only when he did that the blood started to drip out - only when he dug deeper that it began to run freely, and that the smell got ten times worse. Eirn regretted a lot of things in a single instant; loaning Quinn her knife, standing anywhere near him while he worked. Coming to Tatooine. Leaving Ziost. She gagged, backing further away from the stink immediately, and wishing quite fervently, in that moment, that she still had her closed helmet with its mediocre air filter.

'I hope you're not squeamish, Lieutenant,' Quinn added, apparently oblivious to the smell. 'We need this for the ritual.'

'We, my lord?' Eirn replied - who'd been hoping that she and Vette were excused from bloodbath duty by virtue of their lack of lightsabers.

' _We_ , Lieutenant,' Quinn repeated - glancing at her, if the twitch of his helmet was any indication, though it spared her from any direct glare. 'Is there a problem?' A dare, again, rather than a genuine question.

'It smells. Really bad,' Vette managed, from under the hand she'd clamped over her face. 'Like. Backed-up-Nar-Shaddaa-club-toilet bad.'

Eirn was having trouble failing to gag just on the smell, never mind add her own thoughts; Quinn was going to _stink_ , and that was the least of their problems. Her eyes kept trying to water, not that the water lasted very long; the demon's chamber might not have been as hot as the desert, but that didn't stop any and all water from trying to evaporate.

'In that case, Vette,' Quinn replied, 'You should be well used to it.'

'It is,' Eirn managed, eventually, 'Quite disgusting, my lord. And... there's the risk of infection, my lord. Both Vette and myself are at greater risk of exposure. I-'

'Alright, Lieutenant,' Quinn snapped, interrupting her sharply. His tone suggested that it was not, in fact, alright in the slightest - something which came as absolutely no surprise. 'Your knife,' he added, offering her the vibroknife's handle, and apparently choosing to ignore the way she took it from him - as delicately as she could, determined to avoid getting any of the demon's stench on her.

(Eirn just studied the vibroknife for a long, disgusted moment; shook off as much of the blood as she could, and - after putting it back into its sheath, wrapped the whole thing in a plastifilm sealant and prayed that it would only need to be sanitised once to remove the demon's stink)

-

The Sand People's compound was a half-hour speeder ride deeper into the rocky desert, past a wind farm that, from the outside, looked as abandoned as the rest of the desert itself. The farm, though, wasn't their destination - the cave network past it was, the place were they would find the next step to enlightenment, or at the very least, the Jedi. Supposedly.

(Quinn was at least content to sit on the rear seats; downwind of Eirn and Vette, when they were on the move, not that there was any actual breeze in this Force-cursed hole)

The locals, though, seemed about as glad for the smell that Quinn was mouldering in as Eirn was - that, or it was the sight of him striding into their caves as though he owned it, dressed in imposing black armour and covered from head to foot in smears of stinking dried blood. His new gear still lacked a cape - which would have added a certain dramatic air to his entrance, as much as Eirn wasn't certain this was a plus. Still, he likely made for a slightly terrifying sight, and Eirn had to wonder if this _wasn't_ a forgotten Sith ritual that the Jedi had somehow stumbled onto themselves.

That the Sand People took one look at Quinn and fled, though - well, it was equal parts a relief that they wouldn't have to fight in the sweltering heat, and a concern that they were just delaying the inevitable - that the locals wouldn't just return, but return in greater numbers.

'My lord-?' Eirn started, cautiously - not reaching for her rifle just yet, but tensing, all the same.

'Let them go,' Quinn replied, not letting her finish that thought. 'I'm curious to see what they do.'

There was no sign of Breev in the Sand People's cavern, though - or of what, precisely, they were supposed to find here. Other than Jeef's promise of enlightenment, which Eirn was finding less and less likely by the moment. As they made their way into the camp, Eirn felt less and less certain they were even in the right place; she was almost about dig out her comm and ping Breev when the woman spoke up.

'My lord Quinn. I am glad to see you survived your trial with the beast.'

Breev apparently didn't need a stealth generator to walk in the shadows; she startled Eirn, naturally, though Quinn seemed far less rattled.

'Ms. Breev. Of course,' he replied, sounding a little insulted.

Breev wasn't wearing any kind of mask or filter, though she didn't seem fazed by the stench clinging to Quinn in the slightest. It hadn't sweetened any for having dried out; if anything, the sun had just made it worse, and Eirn wasn't looking forward to finding out if it would last the night in the slightest. At the very least, she hoped that Quinn would have the good sense to commandeer a service droid from somewhere to try and clean his armour off.

'This is the place,' Breev was musing, 'That Izzebowe said your path will be illuminated. But-'

'Uh,' Vette started, interrupting her - getting herself a sharp look from Quinn, entirely predictably. 'We've got company.'

Which got everyone's attention, of course, and visibly startled the approaching Sand Person - who, after a moment's hesitation, resumed their approach. They seemed to be more than a little nervous, which did not put Eirn at ease in the slightest - were clutching something which she couldn't see, and her hand twitched to her rifle.

'My lord-' Eirn started - only pausing when the Sand Person offered Quinn a nervous bow - and then, on outstretched arms, a roll of what looked like- parchment of some kind?

Quinn just stared for a moment, before reaching out - taking the parchment for himself. No sooner had he done so than the Sand Person turned and ran, fleeing deeper into the twisting cave system, in the same direction their fellows had fled earlier.

Eirn just watched their interloper go for a long, tense moment, before turning her attention back to Quinn - who'd unrolled the parchment, and was studying it with Breev.

'Ms. Breev,' he was saying, 'Does this look familiar-?'

'I- this is remarkable. It's crude,' Breev started, taking the parchment from Quinn, 'But- it seems to be a map of the desert. Here's the demon's cave, this is the compound we're in, and- but that's not possible...'

'What's not possible, Ms. Breev?' Quinn sounded as patient as ever, and underneath that helmet, probably looked it, too.

Breev, to her credit, did not flinch in the slightest. 'This map,' she said, 'Shows a door carved into the side of Desert Wound Ravine. But- there is no such door. I know that place well,' she added, 'I've mapped it myself, and...'

'Interesting,' Quinn just replied - retrieving his datapad from the depths of his armour, and comparing the maps on it to the parchment Breev was holding. 'What else can you tell me about the area?'

'Nothing that's not on your maps, my lord. I should warn you, though,' Breev added, frowning, 'That humans are not very high up the food chain.'

_Then it's a good job,_ Eirn mused, silently, _That most of us aren't human._

'I see,' Quinn just replied, apparently thoughtfully. 'So much like the rest of this planet, then.'

'My lord,' Breev started, 'you jest, but there are creatures in the sands that even the demons fear.'

'And yet that demon's blood coats my armour,' Quinn replied, rather pointedly.

'Very well,' Breev just replied, sighing to herself. 'Here, my lord,' she added, pointing to a spot on Quinn's datapad, 'This seems to be where the door is marked on the map. If you allow it,' she added, 'I will follow, in the shadows of the dunes.'

'We set out from Mos Anek at first light tomorrow,' Quinn replied, tucking his datapad back from whence it had come. 'Do not put yourself at unnecessary risk. 

Breev's expression was unreadable, but she at least offered Quinn a small bow. 'Safe travels, my lord. I will hope to see you soon.'

-

The mere prospect of _soon_ was still far sooner than Eirn might have liked; still, orders were orders, and Quinn was at least willing to let them avoid the worst hours of the day. She wasn't convinced that it was because he cared in any way; sitting in the side office she'd abused his name to get herself in Varath, she was entirely convinced it was more about his personal comfort than concern for the rest of them.

Quinn had disappeared into the private rooms he'd requisitioned for himself as immediately as he could, of course. Lacking both any orders and any faith that Quinn would respond (at all, never _mind well_ )to an attempt to provide him with medical attention, Eirn had showered (sonic, even without the absurd prices that water commanded on this planet) and pulled on her desk uniform, before finding herself an air-conditioned corner she could avoid the heat in. Vette was still sticking to her like glue, or something approximating it; the Twi'lek was currently occupying herself with some lurid drama or another on the holonet, which Eirn was mostly managing to ignore. Eirn, meanwhile, had started to try and write up the day's activities - documenting their meandering around this hellhole, as though Baras might ever actually bother to use the report for anything other than a weapon or a threat - and prepare as much as she could for the next stage of their adventure.

It couldn't last, though - Quinn appeared eventually, dressed in his dayrobes and smelling noticeably less terrible than he had done on their return to the base. Eirn wasn't convinced that the smell was entirely gone, though she had - equally - had a hard time believing she'd managed to clean so much as her vibroknife fully, despite sanitising the thing twice. The thought had occurred to her that maybe it was trapped in _her_ , somehow; it wasn't a thought that sat well with her, even as she tried her best to tell herself she was probably overthinking things.

'Lieutenant,' he began - greeting her from the doorway of her little side office, failing - for once - to startle her.

'My lord,' Eirn just replied, looking up from her work - from where, more accurately, she'd been looking at the map Breev had marked up for Quinn, and wondering whether it was more likely that their guide was wrong, or lying. 'What can I do for you?'

_Nothing_ , she added, silently. _Go back to napping at your desk, Lieutenant. Excellent work not throwing up, earlier, by the way. I was especially-_

'Bring me up to date on your reports, Lieutenant. You were preparing information about the area we uncovered today?' Quinn was either reiterating his earlier orders, or attempting to test her, and Eirn wasn't sure which she liked the thought of least.

She just nodded in response, though, slightly absently. 'Mos Anek is the closest friendly settlement. The Reclamation Service have an outpost further into the desert,' she added, calling up a map of the region, 'But it's in the opposite direction to our next objective.'

A door which their guide claimed did not exist, in a ravine where things dwelled that ate humans. Nothing about this sat well with Eirn, even as it - equally - did nothing to contradict her theory about this being a more Sith ritual than Jedi.

Quinn studied the map for a long moment, apparently chewing over his options. 'Mos Anek it is, then. We've little enough time in the field as it is. I'd prefer not to spend it retracing our steps.'

Which Eirn couldn't help but take as a personal criticism; which a part of her was certain had been intended as such. _As if I chose to be Sith._

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn just replied, pushing her wounded irritation as far down as it would go. ( _At least,_ she tried to tell herself, _he was actually paying attention._ )

'Have you found anything else about the door the map mentioned?' Quinn added, though - pushing her for the one thing she _didn't_ have.

'There's nothing in any of the databases that I've found, my lord,' Eirn replied, 'But- the most recent and- most _thorough_ maps of the area were the ones that Miss Breev reported making.'

'I see,' Quinn replied - studying the maps closely again, but not adding anything further. He didn't exactly seem pleased with her admission, but- didn't seem exactly _angry_ , either. (Frustrated, perhaps; at the lack of useful information, at their curtailed working hours)

'My lord,' Eirn began, slightly cautiously. 'If- I may ask-'

The look that Quinn shot her suggested that she mayn't, and Eirn immediately wished she hadn't said anything. 

'What is it, Lieutenant?' Quinn replied, though - a challenge as much as it was anything else, and Eirn found it difficult not to wince.

'I know that you suffered minor injury during our encounter with the- sand demon, my lord. Have you had it tended to by the medics here, or- would you like me to take a look?'

'That's not necessary, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, a touch defensively.

Which was obviously a no, and another no, in that order. The look that Quinn was giving her suggested that he'd far rather have taken a shower in sand demon innards - _another_ shower in them, without his armour to get in the way of the smell.

'It's your decision, of course, my lord,' Eirn added, 'I'm simply- if you're to be facing a Jedi Master, my lord, then- it would be prudent to ensure you are in the best possible condition. In my opinion, my lord,' she amended - as though Quinn hadn't heard enough of her contrary opinions recently.

Quinn's expression had twitched at the reminder of lurking Jedi, though; he'd rearranged it back into its usual derisory irritation quickly enough, but apparently the thought of their ultimate goal here was enough to make him reconsider.

'Very well, Lieutenant. You know where you can find me.'

He left abruptly, at that - not even waiting for her resigned _yes, my lord_ , as much as she'd already started auto-piloting it when the door swished closed after him.

('Eir,' Vette added, once Quinn was gone, 'you _sure_ that you wanna do that?'

'I'm sure,' Eirn sighed, 'That I'm his medic, and that means his health is my responsibility.' For better or for worse. 'If I leave you here, can I trust you to keep out of trouble?'

'Eir,' Vette repeated, smiling in an entirely unconvincing manner, 'I always keep out of trouble.')

-

Quinn's room at Varath were as sterile as they were aboard his ship, though that came as no surprise; this was a temporary residence, after all. Still, Eirn couldn't help but feel unsettled by the arrangement. It was a far more intimate setting than the medical wing, and unhelpful unpleasantries kept proposing themselves as possibilities for Quinn's meaning in doing so, as though Sith didn't have the ability to root through her head without her say-so and take what they found there to twist for themselves.

_He is Sith_ , Eirn just tried to tell herself. _He probably just doesn't want to show weakness in front of anyone else._

He did not, at the very least, insist on making awkward small talk - something Eirn was honestly grateful for, as she worked. His bruising was already starting to mottle; Eirn could only assume, as she checked him over and applied, where necessary, soothing kolto gel, that he'd been in meditation before deciding to come and pester her for information she didn't have. He did wince occasionally as she worked, though - flinched, apparently unconsciously, as her fingers brushed over his sensitive, injured skin and muscle.

'Sorry, my lord,' Eirn managed, automatically - getting herself a sour look from Quinn anyway, though he seemed more defensive than he was anything else.

_You look remarkably like a Sith_ , she reminded herself, _And he probably half thinks of you_ as _one._

Considering that _he_ was Sith, Quinn had a remarkable lack of scarring; Eirn had never asked too many questions, and as an Imperial, she probably wasn't _supposed_ to know much about Academy life. But even she had heard the stories that were told of the hardships there - especially in the military spheres, which she and Quinn had both ended up serving. She could only presume that Quinn's habit of covering himself up in armour had been learned young, even as she doubted this was a topic Quinn would consider to be any of her business.

'It was hardly deliberate, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - that defensive irritation never leaving his expression, though.

Eirn had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to respond to that - so she didn't, just continued checking him over, applying kolto where necessary and trying, at least, not to irritate him further. Quinn's lack of serious injury made it a relatively quick job, at the very least - as well as a testament to his armour. He seemed almost as relieved as she was when she finished, though - if only because it meant he could pull his upper robes back on, instead of sitting slightly awkwardly on his bed, half naked and all sour.

'With your permission, my lord,' Eirn managed, as she pulled off the latex gloves, and began to pack her kit away, 'If we're to head out to the ravine tomorrow, I would like to check you over before we go.'

Quinn shot her a slightly dark look, for that, but didn't otherwise respond immediately. 'Very well,' he replied, though not without sounding like he'd rather do anything but. 'I want to depart for Mos Anek as soon as possible, though.

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn just replied - nothing about that came as any surprise. If she was honest, she was rather eager for their stay on this planet to be over, herself. 'I'll arrange for a shuttle transport as soon as one is available. Will you be requiring anything else, before we go?'

That just made Quinn's expression twitch in a way that was as momentarily confused as it was anything else. 'That will be all, Lieutenant. Thank you.'

Which didn't sound particularly genuine, but Eirn supposed she should probably give him points for trying.


	11. Chapter 11

Mos Anek was both an improvement on Varath, and a downgrade.

An improvement, because it was Tatooine itself - there was no official Imperial presence here, just the stone buildings and warm lights of the locals. No blue metal, no red light, no imperial banners or carefully controlled airflow - but oil lamps, whitewashed stone and raucous, enthusiastic music in a whole array of alien languages.

Eirn had realised while still in Mos Ila that the chances of being able to see the world itself - its people, its food, its culture - was slim; there'd been no chance for sightseeing on Nar Shaddaa, and compared to Tatooine, that was positively civilised. The lack of Imperial presence in Anek, though, meant rooms booked at the cantina for the overnight stay (meant Quinn grumbling about the cost, even if they were here on Baras's tab - as though either Sith, Eirn reflected, sourly, had any cause to credit-count). 

It meant an opportunity to explore a foreign menu that Eirn quite gleefully seized with both hands (it meant Vette translating the Huttese for her, and Eirn wondering just how much stock she should put in what the Twi'lek was claiming). Eirn had something Vette claimed was spiced dewback meat with a local vegetable accompaniment; it was spiced _something_ meat, though Eirn couldn't shake the feeling the whole time that Vette was privy to some joke, and made a note to herself to put some translation software on her datapad. (to try and learn at least a little Huttese, if they made a habit of visiting supposedly neutral worlds; the language of the Hutts was the language of commerce, after all, and for more than simply evening meals).

Quinn, of course, declined to join them; Eirn had no idea how much was his lingering mood, and how much was his usual reluctance to eat in front of others. As always, though, it was probably for the best; between his moods and the lingering _eau de sand demon_ , he probably, she reflected, would not have made the best of company.

It was a downgrade, though, because it was Tatooine itself. Cantina rooms did not come with the relative luxuries of quarters reserved for a Sith's retainer; the freshers were communal, there was little space to work, and the locals were generally used enough to the weather that air cooling was not just nonexistent, but actively refused. Eirn lay awake for far too much of the night - too hot, too cold, too annoyed with the too-quiet, and wondering if she wouldn't have been better served by giving up on sleep and just working through the night.

The morning wasn't much better, even if the local caf was a definite improvement on Imperial-standard-issue. The local breakfast didn't offer waffles - or even waffle-substitutes - as an option, and Eirn ended up with something approaching oatmeal that Vette swore on her life was not bantha chow, even if the Twi'lek still smirked to herself in a way that made Eirn certain she was some unknowing punchline.

Quinn's injuries had, of course, healed all but fully overnight - and Eirn felt another smidge of envy for those trained in the Force, even if it wasn't a fate she wanted for herself. He was also, of course, distinctly uncomfortable, as she examined him; there were endless possibilities why, and Eirn decided not to dwell on them while he was in such close quarter. She had no idea if physical proximity made it easier for Sith to pick through her mind or not - but the thought of Quinn finding cause to do just that was not a pleasant one. 

By the time they set out - on foot, given the treachery of the ravine - his mood had already settled into as sour as Vette's, and then ever more so for the fact that it considered itself to be far more justified than hers. 

(At least, Eirn tried to reflect, most of the stink seemed to have gone from Quinn's armour; not all of it, the occasional waft of _eau de sand demon_ inflicting it on anyone foolish enough to spend too much time downwind of him, but not nearly as pungent as it had been the day before)

-

The map lead to a ravine, just as Breev had promised; the ravine seemed to have a noticeable lack of doors, just as Breev had claimed. Eirn wasn't certain they were going to find anything here at all, even as she checked and double-checked her own copy of the map as they approached.

Quinn, though, had come prepared - didn't just have the map Breev had marked up on his datapad, but had the original parchment tucked inside of his armour, too. They rested in the shade of the ravine's towering rock walls as he re-examined it - Eirn watching the suns rise by the way the shadows crept ever closer to the walls, and Vette parked on a rock, poking at the sand with one of her blasters.

( _All it would take_ , Eirn mused, watching her, _is one stray shot, in the heat of battle. Two, at most._ And then: _Not that the Force wouldn't warn him they were coming, I suppose. And Baras's apprentices aren't usually the forgiving type._ )

'Interesting,' Quinn murmured, half to himself - jogging Eirn out of her train of thought, and she wondered for a paranoid moment if he'd somehow picked up on it.

'My lord?' Eirn started - looking cautiously at him, trying to puzzle out what had gotten his attention - and not let on, at that, what she was hoping that it wasn't.

Quinn didn't reply, for a long moment; Eirn had almost given up on him as having chosen to ignore her when he finally spoke.

'Lieutenant,' he started, 'Take a look at this, and tell me what you see.'

Eirn didn't follow, but obeyed anyway - looked to the parchment Quinn was holding out, before looking back at the ravine they were in - the trail that led back towards Anek, and the long shadows cast by the rising suns. She pulled out her datapad, after a moment, too - pulled up the map that Breev had marked up, comparing it to both the parchment and reality in turn.

'It's not just- a map to a door,' she started, slowly - 'It's a- pathway. My lord.'

A very particular route, if she was interpreting it correctly - and while she still didn't see any _door_ in the marked location, it still seemed at least a little more promising.

'Precisely. No wonder Ms. Breev couldn't find it,' Quinn added. 'The Sand People must protect this place for a reason.'

'The Jedi?' Eirn replied - the idea occurring to her in a worried moment. Stumbling onto hidden Jedi- well, they'd have the element of surprise, and she just hoped it would be enough.

'Perhaps,' Quinn just mused - his tone giving nothing away, and his expression hidden underneath his helmet. 'I suppose,' he added, 'We shall find out.'

-

The pathway headed up the side of the ravine, along a slightly treacherous path, leading to a- not so much a door, really, as a gap in the rocks that was almost invisible from the path below. The gap lead to a cavern that opened out, after a little while - that was not, for once, strewn with bones or rocks, lending the place a strangely sterile feeling. It was sheltered, though, and cool, relatively - and, after what felt like far too long, opened up further into an open-air grotto with sunlight streaming in through gaps in the rocks, and - in its centre, edged by fine, pale sand - a watery oasis, a huge, still pool of water that reflected everything around it with an unnerving perfection.

_This-_ Eirn wanted to take a holo, more for her own records than anything to do with the reports that Baras wouldn't care about. It would never catch what made her pause - the stillness of the air, the cool shade, the mirror-flat surface of the water, as blue as the sky it was reflecting. It was a miracle that it existed at all, given Tatooine's unrelenting heat, but it wasn't just that. This place felt- sacred, somehow; had an ancient reverence that forced its way through Eirn's unwillingness to acknowledge such things, settling about her shoulders in a way that made her understand all too well why this was a place of pilgrimage.

Even Quinn had come to a pause, and - after a long moment, unclipped his helmet, pulling it off and glancing around the oasis in a manner that was almost - _almost!_ \- reverent.

(His hair, where it had brushed against the helmet as he removed it, stuck up at ridiculous angles; helmet hair was not a phenomenon unique to Imperials, apparently, even as it only served undermine any air of power he tried to project)

'My lord?' Eirn started, slightly warily - snapped out of her reverie by his movement, and having to make real effort to drag her attention to the present.

'Keep an eye on the perimeter,' Quinn replied - slightly distracted, as he said it. 'If anyone tries to interrupt,' he added, 'Kill them.'

Which made Eirn pause \- interrupt _what_ , exactly? - but Quinn had already started to move, striding towards the water's edge with that same projected confidence he'd forced before they faced the sand demon.

'My lord,' she just replied, offering him a perfunctory bow that he ignored - as usual.

('Whatever,' Vette just harrumphed, scuffing her heels on the sand before finding herself a rock to park herself on)

-

There was no demon here, though - no dramatic reveal, no sky-shattering scream, just a bad-tempered Sith kneeling at the edge of unwaveringly still water, first murmuring something to himself as he knelt at its edge and then, eventually, drifting into a meditation. Eirn watched him, for several long moments - for several long _minutes_ , before dragging her attention elsewhere. Quinn might have been seeking enlightenment - maybe he'd even get it, though she wasn't going to hold her breath - but her own concerns were more immediate, not to mention physical.

The oasis grotto was cooler, at least, than the heat of the unsheltered desert; not quite cool enough that Eirn was happy staying there, as the day wore on, but a definite improvement on staggering around the desert. It was tempting, in the relative cool of the grotto, to pull her own helmet off and try to let her scalp breathe; to let her hair down, and attempt not to overheat while Quinn was meditating. There were any number of reasons why that was a bad idea, though, not least because they were still in hostile territory, even if the most hostile things here were probably the suns.

Eirn was half tempted to check on him, more frequently the more time passed, and half convinced that if she did she'd just end up disturbing the Sith at some vital moment, causing them to be stuck there even longer. It didn't help that as the suns rose in the sky, the temperature rose; Eirn could almost swear she saw odd moments when the water rippled, though its reflection remained as perfect as ever.

'You know,' Vette eventually volunteered, breaking the silence - but barely, her voice low, 'We could probably get the drop on him when he's like this. There's enough wildlife out here that getting rid of the body won't be hard. That Breev lady said there was stuff out here that eats people, right? And it's not like Lord Maladroit doesn't pick fights he can't win.'

Eirn gave Vette a long, slightly distant look - tried to work out how serious the Twi'lek was being, before glancing back to Quinn. He certainly _seemed_ deep in meditation, though there was no real way to tell, and she was quite certain that the fate - or the Force - would conspire to snap him out of it, should either of them act against him.

'I'm going to do us both an enormous favour,' Eirn just sighed, 'and pretend I didn't hear any of that.' 

For one, she knew enough about Sith to know that it was never that simple. For two... well, even if they succeeded, she'd hardly be any better off. Vette would inarguably be, of course, but- well, Eirn wasn't Vette, and was selfish enough that she didn't want to push Quinn's low opinion of her any further than she had to.

'Have it your way,' Vette harrumphed, lapsing back into her silence - going back to glaring at the sand, as though it had done the Twi'lek some great personal wrong.

(Eirn just studied the woman for a long moment further; wondered, should Quinn ever actually remove her collar, if he'd even last the night, or if Vette plotted his demise in more ways than merely bored impulsivity)

-

Their own water supplies were slowly depleting, of course; Eirn kept wondering how likely it would be that they'd have to resupply from the oasis, and how terrible an idea it would be. Sanitation tablets were only marginally less unappealing than ration bars, even if it was mostly elimination the threat of water-borne disease that gave them the edge. 

There were no intruders, though - at least, not any that Eirn was aware of. The day had worn on enough that Eirn was almost thinking about disturbing Quinn for his own safety, when a noise from the cavern that they'd entered in got her attention. She responded in an instant, as did Vette - both women to their feet immediately, weapons drawn and aimed before the intruder had even come into view.

'My apologies. I didn't mean to disturb you.'

It was Breev - the one person who Eirn should have expected, even if the woman seemed to have reneged on her threat of following them as closely as she'd implied.

'Miss Breev,' Eirn started, frowning a little to herself as she stood down. 'I assumed you weren't going to join us.'

'My curiosity got the better of me. I needed to see if this- place truly existed,' Breev admitted, a little bashfully - before glancing to Quinn, her own expression a sort of wary curiosity. 'If I may ask- is Lord Quinn-?'

'He's bein' all Sithy an' shit,' Vette piped up - grinning irreverently at Breev's puzzled glance.

Part of Eirn wanted to shoot a sharp look at Vette for the remark; part of her, though, agreed with it entirely. 'Lord Quinn is meditating on the Force,' she added, sighing - he was _being all Sithy and shit_.

'Well,' Breev mused, 'Izzebowe _did_ say that the ritual was a path to enlightenment. I'll confess,' she added, 'That I'm curious as to what Lord Quinn finds.'

'That's down to Lord Quinn's discretion,' Eirn replied - though she somewhat doubted he would deign to share his insights. Sith tended to guard their secrets jealously, and Quinn seemed to be even more cagey than most. She'd been in his service- what, nearly a month, now? And all she knew about the man was that he lived on Imperial ration bars, a fact that had been imparted to her by _Vette_.

( _On the up side_ , she mused, _my promotion bonus should be with my next paycheque. Which will be nice._ )

'Of course,' Breev just replied, her focus all on Quinn. 'I hope that he finds what he's looking for,' she addded - her gaze, at that, not so much on Quinn as the distance behind him.

Right - Breev served Baras, too, and he'd never been the type to show his underlings much forgiveness for failure. Eirn was about to try and reply to that, when Vette beat her to it.

'Oh, hey. We got incoming.'

Eirn followed her gaze, at that - spotted Quinn, who'd apparently either found enlightenment, or was about to chew the three of them out for interrupting his attempt. His expression was its usual unreadably irritated self, and Eirn wasn't much reassured by the fact that he ignored her and Vette entirely - his attention, instead, all on Breev.

'Ms. Breev,' Quinn started, 'I am glad to see you. Here,' he added, handing Breev his datapad before she could respond. 'I saw this, in a vision. Can you make any sense of it?'

Breev studied it for a moment, her expression scrutinising - and then sharply alarmed, before she pushed the datapad back into Quinn's hands. 'No!'

Quinn, of course, did not take that well. 'Ms. Breev,' he started, frowning sharply, 'Need I remind you-'

'That's the Forbidden Pass,' Breev interrupted, who looked more than a little shaken. 'None who venture beyond it survive to return.'

_I suppose it's too much to hope we're not going there anyway._ If anything, Eirn suspected that would just make Quinn all the more determined; Sith, after all, were nothing if not contrary.

'My quarry ventured there,' Quinn replied, 'And survived. I must follow.' He paused, and added, 'Besides, I am Sith. I find it unlikely that anything out there can pose a serious threat.'

Breev looked conflicted - her expression twitching as she wrestled with what Eirn could only assume was her doubts.

'Very well,' she replied, eventually - taking the datapad back, at that, before starting to mark up Quinn's map. 'Here. I've marked the route to the pass. But- I cannot follow. I will not.'

Quinn, at that, just smiled a little to himself. 'Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Breev.' He paused, taking back the offered datapad, before consulting the map for a moment. 'When I return,' he added, 'I will be sure to note your assistance to Lord Baras.'

Breev did not look reassured by this in the slightest, though she kept any further objections to herself. 'It has been an honour, Lord Quinn,' she just replied, bowing mournfully. 'Should you not return-'

'I will return, Ms. Breev,' Quinn replied. 'You can count on that.'

'As you say, my lord,' Breev sighed - apparently finally relenting, or at least running out of energy to argue. 'Safe travels, my lord.'

With that, she was gone - bowed and left, disappearing into the cavern system that led back out towards the desert. Eirn watched her, too - waited for Breev to disappear into the rocky darkness, before turning her attention back to Quinn.

'Orders, my lord?' she managed, cautiously - loathe to disturb Quinn, who was studying the map that Breev had marked up for him.

'I want to head out,' Quinn replied, 'Immediately. This pass Ms. Breev mentioned is out past Outpost Varoshe. The sooner we locate this Jedi, the sooner we can get off this rock.'

'On foot, my lord?' Eirn replied, before she could stop herself - wincing at Quinn's glare, and almost wishing she hadn't said anything at all.

'Do you have a better suggestion, Lieutenant?' Without his helmet getting in the way, Eirn got the full benefit of Quinn's glare - just as sour as it would have been without the helmet hair, and somehow all the worse for the impatient edge it added to an already irritated expression.

Traipsing through the desert was bad enough; traipsing through the desert during the heat of the day, her kit bag strapped to her back, was not a thought that made Eirn feel in any way optimistic.

'The Reclamation Service outpost is on the route out towards Varoshe, my lord. I- would recommend that we either- pause there, or return to Anek. It's the hottest part of the day,' she added, bracing herself for Quinn's disagreement, 'And I- would prefer to avoid anyone falling ill. My lord.'

'Noted,' Quinn replied, before looking back to the map. 'We have adequate water supplies?'

'Well- yes, my lord-' Eirn began, a little weakly - as much as she knew that nothing pleasant was going to come from this. 'But-'

'-But nothing, Lieutenant. We push on to Varoshe.' Quinn had nothing further to add, and offered Eirn no opportunity to respond - just pulled his helmet back on, clipping it into place and not made a millimetre more approachable for any of it.

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn sighed.

-

The sands between the ravine and Varoshe - and, beyond that, Breev's _Forbidden Pass_ \- were hostile enough on their own. _Hot_ was an understatement, _dry_ was a given, and _occupied by Sand People_ was a possibility that Eirn had attempted to explain to Quinn but which the Sith seemed content to ignore until the natives were taking shots at them. Vette, of course, disappeared unhelpfully into stealth as soon as the first shots were fired, and Eirn's armour took the brunt of a shot that hit her squarely in the chest - sending her staggering backwards down a dune, her kit bag ending up being the only thing that stopped her rolling backwards. Instead, she just slid down it - gracelessly, and slightly stupidly, groaning unhappily as she came to a halt. It took her several painful moments to work out what had happened - what was going on, and what, for that matter, the smell of seared plastiform was. By the time she'd managed to struggle into a position that was almost upright, the skirmish was over - and Quinn was looming over her, his armour doing absolutely nothing to make an already unnerving sight any more reassuring.

'Lieutenant. You are uninjured?' He offered her a hand, after a moment - which Eirn just looked at, slightly stupidly, until she realised he was attempting to offer assistance.

'My armour took the hit, my lord,' she replied - taking his hand, after an awkward moment, and accepting his help in getting back on her feet. It wasn't her preferred course of action, but it was less ungainly than struggling on her own. Still, it was a slow process - not helped by her ginger attempts to assess the damage to her armour.

'So I see,' Quinn mused, his tone as unreadable as ever. 'This won't cause a problem, I hope?'

(Quinn, of course, was uninjured; even Vette, who finally dropped out of stealth, seemed to have gotten out of the encounter without a scratch)

'I'll need to examine it once we have some time, my lord,' Eirn sighed - the sooner the better, if only because having the opportunity to do so would mean being somewhere that wasn't the heat of the desert.

'Well,' Quinn replied, 'If we don't need to pause, then we push on.'

Which Eirn hated, for any number of reasons. 

-

Varoshe was barely an outpost - a medical tent, a couple of commandeered stone dwellings, a mobile shuttle buoy that Eirn wasn't certain would survive a serious sandstorm. Still, it meant a break in their trek - meant shade and rest and kolto and a chance to empty the sand from their boots.

(They had water, at least - which Eirn was happiest about, if she was honest, the rationing officer just watching as she drank a half-litre bottle without pausing for breath, and muttering something barely audible under his breath about Sith that Eirn failed entirely to be able to ignore)

The rooms Quinn commandeered were small, cramped affairs, and Eirn was fairly certain they'd been hastily converted from much more spacious ones. Still, it meant a chance to check the integrity of her armour - to sit in the cool and shade of the buildings, to try and tell herself that the creeping heat exhaustion could be held at bay with a night's rest, that perhaps they could soon be off this Emperor-forsaken rock.

(She traded with one of the regular lieutenants stationed there for MRE components, and made noodles for her and Vette that they had with dewback jerky and a collective gratefulness for not having to resort to ration bars)

Much as she was generally loathe to disturb Quinn, she ended up doing so anyway - gingerly knocking on the door of his room, and waiting uncertainly for him to answer.

'Lieutenant,' Quinn began, glancing her up and down. He didn't look irritated or annoyed so much as _tired_ , though this did little to reassure her.

'My lord,' Eirn replied, 'Please- forgive any interruption. I was- preparing for tomorrow,' she added, 'And I- have mapped out a route to the pass Miss Breev indicated you saw, but- I was wondering if you- knew where we were headed from there? I- only ask to- make sure we have time to work safely.' And not traipse through the heat of the desert for several hours, she added, silently.

'Let me see that,' Quinn just replied - taking her datapad before she had a chance to offer it, and looking over her work with a disdainful eye. 

'No,' he added, eventually - his expression darkening, for a moment, before he looked back to Eirn. 'I appreciate your efforts, Lieutenant. While I have a destination in mind, the vision was... less than exact.' 

An admission that Quinn didn't sound happy about - though whether that was a criticism of the Force or of Quinn himself, Eirn wasn't sure she wanted to speculate. She had no idea how she could reply to that without sticking her foot down her throat, so she didn't try - just nodded, offering him a faint, silent bow.

'How are you feeling?' Quinn continued, though - scrutinising her, at that. 'After your- tumble, earlier?'

'Nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure, my lord,' Eirn replied - smiling faintly, and hoping that was true. She was tired, and dehydrated, and her head had been aching, faintly, ever since that _tumble_. All the shot itself had left was mild ache where her chestplate had been pushed against her; her armour had burned, yes, but it was more a cosmetic injury than anything. Had the shot hit flesh - or her desk uniform - then she'd have been in trouble, but there were reasons she wore armour in the field.

'Good,' Quinn replied, offering her the datapad, finally. 'Make sure you do, Lieutenant. I will need you at your best, once we find this Jedi.'

'Of course, my lord,' Eirn said - offering him another small bow. 'You believe that the Jedi is- beyond this pass, my lord?'

'We're close,' Quinn replied, 'I'm certain of it.' He paused, at that - and then, 'Get some rest, Lieutenant. And make sure Vette does, too. We depart at first light.'

Another hideously early start, but Eirn knew it made sense. 'Of course,' she replied, offering Quinn one last small bow. 'Goodnight, my lord.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what... no vision? companion chapter to follow in the next couple of days, i just need to finish polishing up the rough edges :>
> 
> as always, thank you for reading ♥


	12. Chapter 12

First light, of course, came far too soon - as did the time Eirn had to crawl out of bed beforehand, and she found herself wishing that Tatooine was safe enough that they could have worked nights instead of days. Like all deserts, Tatooine cooled rapidly once its suns had set, and Eirn - born and raised on Ziost, where the mountains looking over her hometown still had snow even at high summer, and where snowbells bloomed until long past Emperor's day - was much happier in the cold than the heat. The desert night, though, brought its own problems; besides which, this was Quinn's mission, not hers. 

The man himself, when he joined Eirn during her morning breakfast (breakfast-substitute; Eirn was trying not to think too hard about its actual contents, and just tell herself it was still preferable to ration bars), was his usual, slightly sour, self - not, by this point, that this came as any surprise.

'My lord,' Eirn started, after she'd greeted him - glancing over the Sith, for just a moment. 'Are you alright-?'

It was impossible to miss the slightly reddish tone that Quinn's skin had taken on; he'd apparently suffered sunburn the previous day which had manifested overnight, turning his usually pale skin ever so slightly pink around the edges. It was nowhere near the crimson of Sith, and looked more uncomfortable than anything else, though Eirn knew enough about sunburn to know it was going to look even worse once it started peeling.

_Of course,_ she remembered - kicking herself for not noticing sooner. Quinn had removed his helmet while they were at the oasis; apparently it normally protected him from sunburn, but he hadn't been wearing it while he'd been meditating. Eirn wasn't even sure what had prompted him to do so; granted, it had been a slightly ridiculous urge that she'd almost indulged herself. That just made her think, for unknown reasons, of Jeef's dramatics when they'd first arrived; of his tales of enlightenment, and it took effort to push that thought and its attendant meanderings to one side.

'I am perfectly fine, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, slightly more sharply than he had to. 'Besides, we've important business to be attending to.'

Searching for the Jedi, for instance. Visions and half-maps weren't much to go on, and a part of Eirn wanted to suggest that going undercover in a Republic-aligned settlement and asking around might be a more straightforward path than scouring kilometres of empty sand for people who would probably be able to see - or _feel_ \- them coming. There were problems with that plan, of course; the Republic was keen on neither Sith nor slavery, and Eirn doubted that Quinn could keep his moods in check enough to pass himself off as one of their Force users. And that, of course, assumed that any of them could bluff their way past the inevitable checkpoints.

The Imperial databases hadn't been much help, either, though Eirn knew that Baras would probably have scoured them for information himself. There was intel on Jedi on Tatooine, certainly, but half of it was speculative and the other half related to corpses, neither of which was much immediate use. Even the Reclamation Service had little to say for itself - which struck Eirn was unusual in itself, given as Sith artefacts were second only to actual Sith as things which attracted destructive Jedi attention.

'I've- prepared a map for you, my lord,' she managed, hoping that it would distract from her immediate failures. 'It- highlights two regions. The first is- the distance we can safely cover in search and still return to Varoshe to avoid the hottest part of the day. The second is- the maximum distance we can cover before- reaching the point in the day I suggested- stopping working, in my original report.'

Quinn just studied the datapad she offered him for a long moment, before making some kind of noncommittal noise. 'Thank you, Lieutenant,' he replied, eventually. 'Get your gear,' he added, 'And Vette, and be ready at the shuttle buoy in ten minutes. I don't want to waste any time whatsoever.'

Which didn't bode well, but Eirn knew better than to try to argue.

'Yes, my lord,' she just repeated, offering Quinn a small bow, and not surprised in the slightest when she looked up from it to see that he'd already gone.

-

They had the use of a speeder, at least, for which Eirn was grateful; less so that she was driving, but it gave her something to focus on that wasn't the sweat on the back of her neck or the faint scratch of her helmet's strap against her jaw tendrils.

Breev's _Forbidden Pass_ seemed no more foreboding, taken on its own, than any other rocky pass that this place had; Eirn was certain she spotted watchers behind rock formations several times, but if the natives were around, they were at least keeping to themselves. It was only once the pass opened up and the rocks petered out that Eirn began to understand just why it was so forbidden.

'My lord,' she started, as they progressed, 'Where are we to-?'

'Keep going, Lieutenant. I will direct you as necessary.' Quinn, of course, did not let her finish.

His response didn't fill Eirn with confidence, either, but she kept that thought to herself. She just glanced at her datapad, propped up against the control panel, displaying a map of the area, and hoped that this wasn't going to end as poorly as she suspected it would.

The pass had opened up into desert - the last of the shade and shelter falling away as they headed ever further out. According to the maps, there were outposts further into the desert - all of which were varying levels of _abandoned_ and given over to the elements. Even the Sand People weren't known to live out this far; granted, little about the Sand People _was_ known for certain, but even Eirn knew that somewhere that even they did not settle had to be harsh territory.

(Vette, sitting in the rear seats, had mostly lapsed into one of her customary sulks; not, given everything, that Eirn really blamed her)

If it hadn't been for the updating map on her datapad, Eirn would have sworn that they were barely moving at all; the desert seemed to stretch on into infinity, with sandy dunes in every direction and not so much as a rocky outcrop or hidden cave to break to monotony. Occasional instructions from Quinn aside, they were proceeding in silence, too; Vette was, as usual, keeping entirely to herself, and Quinn was hardly a conversationalist at the best of times. 

Eirn was starting to lose faith that they'd find anything out here but sand and dehydration, as the day wore on. It didn't help that the instructions Quinn gave were few, and far between - seemed almost random in their nature, and only ever took them further away from civilisation. If it hadn't been for the datapad's tracking telling her otherwise, Eirn would have sworn they were somehow driving around in circles - or over the same patch of desert, constantly revisiting the same few grains of sand in the hope that this time, one of them might turn out to be hiding a Jedi.

'Over the next ridge, Lieutenant. Be prepared.' Quinn actually shifted in his seat as he said those words; when Eirn glanced across at him, it was half concerned they were about to stumble across a Krayt nest.

All they found, though, was a somewhat dilapidated hut which, from the outside, gave every sign of having been abandoned - like everything this far out into the desert. There was a speeder out front, but it had clearly been there a while - stripped of almost all its parts, the last shreds of its frame consisting of and held together by rust and trapped sand. The vaporator that all Tatooine dwellings kept had toppled over in some storm, and never been righted - proof, as far as Eirn could tell, that not only was nobody living here, but nobody had even _been_ here for some time.

_If nothing else,_ she tried to tell herself, _it's shade. Perhaps I should suggest we take a break_ \- ( _Yes, because he'd obviously listen. Illte, you are full of the stupidest ideas._ )

Quinn insisted on disembarking, of course - glared at Vette all the while, who said nothing but glowered at the world in a way that Eirn wasn't sure it didn't deserve.

('My lord,' Eirn started, warily, 'You're certain-?'

'I'm _certain_ , Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - more sharply, of course, than he absolutely had to)

Eirn, of course, was on point; the sacrificial Imperial, and a part of her wanted to point out that, as Quinn's medic, she was probably the last person he wanted springing any traps they found. It was a thought she kept to herself, though - just chewed on, before pushing out of focus, especially while in such close proximity to the man himself. 

The hut, on first entry, was just as abandoned inside as it was outside; there didn't seem to be any traps, but - a faint dusting of sand aside, the inner corridor was utterly bare and unlit. 

And then she turned a corner, and the hut was no longer abandoned - still the faintest trace of sand on the stone flooring, but the walls were decorated with paintings and lined with shelves covered in statuettes and trinkets; a low table was set against one wall, with half-drunk tea and some kind of sliced fruit that Eirn didn't recognise.

What she _did_ recognise was the Jedi - that they _were_ Jedi, at least - two of them, neither of them nearly as surprised at her presence as she was at theirs, and she'd managed half a step backwards before Quinn stepped into her field of vision, snorting with a sort of annoyed derision at her awkwardly truncated retreat.

Neither Jedi was wearing any kind of armour; both wore the same dull clothing all Jedi seemed to, simple robes in neutral colours. Both, too, had their lightsabers with them - prominently displayed in holsters on their belts, Jedi apparently every inch as subtle in their dress as Sith.

'Sith. You finally arrive.' The older of the two Jedi - Yonlach, Eirn assumed. Baras's - and Quinn's - briefings had contained precious little useful information, and her scouring the Imperial archives had not turned up much. If the Empire held information on this man, it was beyond Eirn's security clearance - and was probably about to become irrelevant, too.

'Master Yonlach,' the younger Jedi added, 'Please. Let me handle this.'

The younger Jedi didn't waste any time in showing how he intended to _handle this_ , either - drew and lit his saber, a bright green blade. Eirn had her rifle levelled immediately, not wasting a single moment - though Quinn did not respond, not yet, and Eirn had to wonder if the Sith knew more about this than he was letting on.

'Yul-li,' the older Jedi - Yonlach himself, apparently - replied, every millimetre as stoically placid as the reputation of Jedi demanded. 'Stand down. There is no need for this.'

The younger Jedi snorted, but relented; extinguishing his saber, though Eirn knew there was nothing keeping him from relighting it again in an instant. She knew Jedi well enough to know that if she fired, that shot would be deflected by sabers that would be lit before she'd even pulled the trigger, but it was the principle of the thing - was why she only stood down after Quinn's helmet twitched in a way that suggested he was giving her a very unamused glare, beneath it.

(She could see Vette, out of the corner of one eye, roll her eyes and cross her arms, continuing to exude annoyed boredom with everyone present)

'Sith,' Yonlach added, glancing to Eirn, for a moment, but addressing Quinn, 'I know why you are here. Why you have mocked and perverted ancient tradition, and why you march across this desert as though you think you can own it.'

'In that case,' Quinn replied, apparently unruffled by this, 'You know that I will not leave until I have what I came for.'

'This is your only warning, Sith,' Yonlach just said, not backing down for a moment. 'You face not a lone Jedi, but two Masters of the Order. Whatever it is you think you have faced thus far, I assure you, it is nothing to what you face here.'

Quinn's only response to that was an unimpressed snort; underneath his helmet, Eirn could only assume there was an unimpressed glare to go with it. Trying to guess how much was an act for the Jedi's benefit and how much was his true feelings was a game she didn't have the time or information to play - besides which, there were more pressing matters to hand.

'My lord,' Eirn started, quietly - half-certain she was going to regret this, but- 'I- we weren't expecting _two_ Jedi-'

Quinn, though, just chuckled darkly. 'It's a pity you are not permitted to carry a saber, Lieutenant. I'm certain even you could hold your own against an old man and his student.'

Which was an insult to all of them, and it clawed at the edges of Eirn's ego; demanded that she cut an apology from Quinn's flesh, and it was urge she had to all but stamp on in order to quiet. It was oh-so-very Sith, but that didn't make it helpful - not here, not ever. (The remark was half bravado, she realised, dimly - _all_ bravado; the only thing she'd manage to defeat if given a lightsaber would be herself, for any number of reasons)

Yonlach, though, just smiled in a way that Eirn knew could only end badly. 'Even if you gave your servants their due, Sith, you would face this trial alone.'

For a moment, nothing happened - Eirn adjusted the grip on her rifle, tension coiling in her in a way that promised nothing pleasant - and she blinked, nothing more, her eyelids closed for barely a second before they refused to open again, her rifle clattering as it hit the ground.

She hit the floor like a wet sack of sand, flopping gracelessly against the stone - her armour the only thing that broke her fall, and only then because it had no choice in the matter. It took Eirn several far-too-long moments before she realised her body wasn't responding at all - that she hadn't fainted or passed out so much as simply- collapsed, like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed. She was still conscious and aware of her surroundings, but utterly, pointlessly, helplessly, defenceless - flopped uselessly on the ground, blind to the world and unable to so much as open her eyelids, never mind defend herself from these Jedi.

'What,' Quinn snarled, 'Did you do-!'

'Nothing permanent,' Yonlach replied, just as implacably calm. 'They will be dealt with in due time.'

_Dealt with._ Eirn didn't like the sound of that - tried, desperately, to so much as twitch a single muscle, and got exactly nowhere. She couldn't even panic effectively - her heartbeat remained stubbornly even, her body apparently having lapsed into an almost-sleep - even if her mind hadn't had the grace to follow suit.

( _Vette_ , she realised, _must have been- incapacitated as well_ \- not that that she really expected Vette to fight on Quinn's behalf, but-)

'Neither of them will mourn you, Sith,' Yonlach continued - calm, through all of this, in a way that somehow seemed more terrifying than all but the worst of Baras's tirades. 'If you persist, your death will be unremarkable, and unmarked. Not even your foul Master will miss you.'

Which made a nervous fear of its own blossom in Eirn, and she was suddenly unsure what possibility she disliked the most: that the Jedi had picked through her mind so easily and so stealthily, that she was so obvious in her opinion of Quinn that even this Jedi had picked up on it, that Quinn himself would find her loyalties and the reasons for them just as easy to prise out of her head. ( _He could be bluffing_ , she tried to tell herself, _he's a Jedi, and Jedi lie_ -)

'Neither of them will mourn me,' Quinn retorted, 'Because I'm not the one who's going to die, Jedi.'

[ _Agree to surrender, and I will release you. I will not allow you to fight, but you would be out of harm's way,_ ] a voice whispered to her - quite unlike any that she'd heard before, and felt bolt of sick, terrified anger stab through her as she realised its source. [ _When he is dealt with, you can leave. Or, if you prefer, we can arrange for amnesty with the Republic._ ]

Yonlach, she realised \- probably, anyway. The Jedi, touching her mind - rooting through it, and all Eirn could think about for one dizzying moment was all her pathetic, selfish, weaknesses and secrets - the things she kept locked up, stashed as deeply inside of herself as she could keep them, in the hope that no Sith would ever find an excuse to go looking. Sith, though, were one thing - were known variables, more or less, that she'd been defending herself against since she was a child. Jedi, though - Jedi were something else entirely, an ice-cold, numbing presence that hovered at the very edges of her awareness, a death of quite another sort than that which awaited her under Sith - but death, all the same.

( _How_ , she wondered, ridiculously, _am I supposed to even respond-?_ )

_Get fucked, Jedi._ If nothing else, Eirn reasoned, then the Jedi should be able to pick up on her hostility - especially if he was pawing through her mind. More than anything, she was offended - and angry, and slightly terrified at the mere idea that the Jedi thought this appeal to her might _work_. (The realisation that it might yet do; that Baras would never accept that she'd escaped while Quinn had perished, and the Republic would _be_ her only option, in that event-)

[ _Be reasonable, Sith. You know this can only end one way. Don't throw your life away._ ]

If she'd been able to, Eirn would have snorted in response; all she could do was cling to the edges of her mind, attempting to claw back control of her body and succeeding only at spiralling into further panic.

_I'm being reasonable. Get. Fucked._

Betray the Empire. Betray the Sith. Betray Quinn, betray _Baras_. It was unthinkable, and not because of any love she had for any of the above - all of whom, for all their faults, were preferable to handing herself off to some Jedi who thought nothing of paralysing her and invading the privacy of her mind. If the Jedi - Yonlach, she had to assume - had anything further to say to that, he kept it to himself - his focus back on Quinn, who'd been arguing with the younger Jedi.

'This is your last chance, Sith.' Yonlach's voice - his actual voice, and it took Eirn a long moment to realise he wasn't addressing her, any more. 'Stand down, and we can end this peacefully.'

'It's no use, Yonlach,' the younger Jedi added - half-growled, and- re-lit his saber, from the sound of it. 'Sith are beyond reason.'

Quinn just snorted - all bravado, of course, as though Sith bravado were ever something that hadn't made things worse. He didn't reply, though, and it took Eirn far too long to realise it was because he was defending himself. It didn't come entirely as a surprise, she supposed; Jedi were inexorably Jedi, and these two were ones that Eirn would not miss.

'Dammit- Yul-li-' Yonlach was immediately protesting - though those protests died soon enough, Yonlach apparently lighting his own saber in response to the brawl that was already taking place. 

Eirn found it difficult to believe that he would keep out of it, either; the Jedi hadn't thought much of taking her and - likely - Vette out of the equation, and hardly seemed the sort to give up such an advantage. It was simultaneously admirably Sith and repulsively Jedi, and Eirn just found herself hating him for it all the more. 

_If Quinn dies, here_ , she wondered, _are they planning to execute me, too?_

Vette, she supposed, would probably be released; justice, or something approximating it. Vette definitely wouldn't mourn Quinn, and Eirn wasn't certain that she'd be particularly missed, either. Being less terrible than Quinn - and better company than the droid - wasn't exactly a stellar recommendation of character. 

_Or maybe,_ the part of her she hated most added, _I'll be handed over to Karr and his apprentice for interrogation. For them to cut as much about Baras out of me as they can._

Not that the Jedi would need to try very hard, if Yonlach's rooting around in her head was anything to go by. That thought was rudely interrupted by someone's boot abruptly kicking her - and then that someone tripping backwards _over_ her, landing gracelessly on the floor - sprawled over her, squashing the breath out of her for a moment as they struggled to right themselves. Whoever it was, it didn't bode well for them - or her, for that matter, as Eirn realised this just made her a target, too. It was impossible to tell who it was - and, for that matter, who she wanted it to be. While the idea of being crawled over by a Jedi didn't fill Eirn with glee, the thought of Quinn doing just that didn't thrill her either, for any number of reasons. 

'Using your Imperial as a shield? Pathetic,' the younger Jedi sneered. 'No wonder she hates you.'

Quinn, to that, just snorted - and then shifted, he _was_ the one sprawled awkwardly on top of her, and Eirn felt that nervous fear wash over her again as Quinn picked himself up. He barely managed to avoid a saber blow that Eirn _felt_ scrape along her armour, which she couldn't so much as flinch away from as it burned her armour, the smell of seared fibermesh sending a kind of terror through her that wasn't much abated when the Jedi's saber pulled away without having found her flesh.

( _He's going to lose_ , Eirn thought to herself, panic overriding every part of her that had more faith in Sith than Jedi, _and I'm going to die, and oh, Emperor, please, not like this-_ )

'You know _nothing_ , Jedi,' Quinn spat, taking another swing - that, if the sound was anything to go by, was blocked by the Jedi - plasma resisting plasma, the two ( _but where's the other one? My lord, don't lose your focus-_ ) of them locked like that for a moment before the Jedi fell back - was pushed back, stumbled, however he moved - and Quinn pushed forward, his boots clacking on the Jedi's stone floor as he moved over Eirn's prone body.

The fight was taking altogether far too long - a fact not helped by the darkness Eirn was trapped in, listening helplessly; trying to pick out the details of the fight from the sounds of clashing lightsabers and grunts of pain and exertion, and trying not to get carried away by the catastrophising that her mind found it all too easy to latch onto. (Trying, and failing, not to hate herself for her forced inaction; for her uselessness, for her actually proving to be a _hazard_ to her lord-)

That train of thought was abruptly derailed, though, by - of all things - silence; by a lightsaber deactivating abruptly before it dropped, clattering as it hit the stone floor of the hut. For an awful, far-too-long moment there was nothing but silence - except the sound, faintly, of pained breathing.

'Wait! Sith- please- I will tell you what you came for, just- don't hurt Master Yonlach-'

The younger Jedi - Yul-li? - and he sounded afraid, a sharp contrast to his arrogant taunting what felt like barely moments before.

'And what,' Quinn responded, 'Would you know of my goals?'

' _Yul-li_ ,' Yonlach hissed, 'Don't do this! It's not-'

'I know you seek Jaesa Willsaam,' Yul-li replied, 'Nomen Karr's padawan. Why else would you come here?' He paused, and then: 'She's-'

' _Yul-li_ ,' Yonlach repeated, firmer this time, 'You know nothing about Nomen Karr's padawan.'

'I-,' Yul-li added, uncertainly - pausing, mid sentence. 'I- don't know what I was saying...'

(Quinn snorted, audibly angry - and for a moment, all that could be heard was a crash as a body was flung against shelving, sending its contents scattering and whoever it was - Yonlach, Eirn had to assume - tumbling to the floor)

' _Now_ ,' Yonlach managed, eventually- wheezed, apparently, ' _Sleep._ '

There was nothing, in the moment following that, but the thud of robed flesh on the cool stone floor of the hut. The one following it was far too quiet for Eirn's liking; it sounded of death far more than sleep, even if she was immediately unsure that was anything but her own projection.

'Do not,' Quinn growled, 'Think that nonsense will work on me.'

Yonlach, though, just laughed. 'You'll get nothing more from me, Sith. Jaesa knows you are coming. From your behaviour here, she will know what to expect. Do what you will with me, but know this - she will be the end of your foul Order, starting with you and your decrepit Master.'

'The only thing that ends today,' Quinn snarled, 'Is _you_ , Jedi.'

Yonlach at least had the good grace to die without further protest - gurgling a little on his final breath, before collapsing noisily to the stone floor of his hut. A lightsaber clattered as it hit the ground, moments later - followed by the kind of silence that meant the day was won. It was not, though, much of a reassurance - not least because of the pained noises Quinn had been making.

Whatever hold the Jedi had been keeping on her faded almost immediately - though it took several moments for Eirn to manage to open her eyes without being blinded by the light. When she managed to look around, it was to see that Yonlach - unsurprisingly - had expired - and that Quinn was leaning against the far wall, holding himself in a way that spoke of some injury. He'd even removed his helmet, again; was inspecting his armour with an expression of pained disdain, but otherwise seemed to content to ignore the rest of the world. Vette was slowly pulling herself to her feet - inspecting the Jedi with a distinct wariness, but didn't look exactly thrilled to see that the Sith were still present and correct, either.

_Neither of them will mourn you._ The worst part was it was true, too; a few weeks ago, Eirn might have thought that Quinn's loss would be to the Empire's detriment, but currently, she was having trouble believing he was much better than the Force-sensitives that she'd grown up hating. It was a thought that kept gnawing at her, even as she tried to push it away - to push it as deep as it would go, especially while in such close quarters with Quinn, who already had more than reason enough to cut her loose - or worse.

When she sat up, it was slowly; closing her eyes for a long moment, massaging her forehead gingerly. Her headache hadn't gotten any better for her stint on the floor; if anything, her time as a tripping hazard had just left her feeling slightly dizzy as well as staggeringly incompetent.

_Focus, Illte. You have a job to do._

'Vette,' Eirn started, as she pulled herself to her feet. At least, she tried to tell herself, the only real injury she'd suffered had been to her armour. 'Are you alright?'

Vette was already on her feet, and prodding the sleeping Jedi warily with one foot. Quinn seemed content to ignore them all, for now; if she'd had her wits about her a little more, Eirn might have noticed this, but as it was, she could just about focus on what was right in front of her.

'Better than this asshole,' Vette replied - harrumphed, really. Her heart wasn't in the insult, though, and Eirn was quite certain Vette would much rather have been kicking Quinn.

The diagnostic scanner confirmed her assessment, at least - Vette had survived the encounter without so much as a bruised ego, and seemed quite content about it.

Quinn, though, was something of a different story - was still propping himself up against the wall, when Eirn approached - as cautiously as much as any other way. His armour was scored in several places, where the Jedi's blades had caught it - and burned through in one spot, where the tougher plating gave way to the more flexible material below that hadn't quite stood up to the Jedi lightsaber. The burn was not deep, but still looked painful; probably _was_ painful, even if Quinn gave Eirn an incredibly irritated look once he finally realised she was there.

'Lieutenant,' he started - trying to move, and immediately apparently regretting it, though his irritation got channelled into a glare he gave, of all the things, to _her_.

'My lord,' Eirn started - unable not to feel like she deserved that criticism, at least in part. 'I must- apologise for being so easily overpowered.'

Quinn, at that, just snorted - and then grimaced, apparently immediately regretting it. 'Be more prepared next time, Lieutenant.' For a moment, it looked like he was going to add something further - and then the moment passed, and Quinn went back to leaning against the wall.

Eirn wasn't sure what, if anything, she was supposed to be able to do to defend herself against that sort of trickery - but she didn't argue the point, not least because it was an assessment she agreed with. The Jedi had rooted around in her head far too easily for her liking, and it wasn't an experience she wanted to repeat. 'I will- endeavour to do so, my lord,' she just replied - what else could she say?

Her reply was apparently acceptable, though - that, or Quinn was in too much pain to continuing criticising her. Eirn had to admit that she wasn't picky as to which was closer to the truth, and wondered what it said about her. Nothing pleasant, she knew that much, though the thought bubbled away before she could invest much more worry in it. If nothing else, she had more immediate problems - _Quinn_ had more immediate problems.

The lightsaber burn was the most visible, but far from the only one. He had several bruised ribs, which Eirn knew there was little she could do anything about, and- well, there wasn't much she was _prepared_ to do about his ego, even if he'd managed to emerge from this victorious.

'My lord,' Eirn started to add, 'I- would recommend you visit a proper medcentre as soon as possible. With that burn-'

The look Quinn gave her was more pained than it was anything else, even if much of that _anything else_ was comprised of arrogant irritation. 'I do not-' he started - almost sneering, before he shifted the wrong way and hissed in pain before he could stop himself.

'Please, my lord,' Eirn added - cleaning it as best (and as gingerly) as she could anyway, and trying to ignore the way Quinn was trying not to hiss and grimace. 'Without proper medical attention- I'm just a field medic, and there's only so much a kolto spray can do.'

(Quinn snorted, but stopped arguing, not least because of the way he immediately grimaced; the closest thing, Eirn could only assume, that she was going to get to cooperation)


	13. Chapter 13

The closest medcentre, of course, didn't have the decency to be at Varoshe, even if the return trip was slightly more direct than the meandering path they'd taken out into the desert. The RecServ outpost had one, and Eirn dimly managed to autopilot her way through comming ahead - ignoring Quinn's irritated denials that he needed medical attention, and using Baras's authority to get them a shuttle from Varoshe. It wasn't going to make them popular, not least among those stationed at there, but that was the least of her worries.

If nothing else, it meant a break from driving; a chance to rest her eyes, even if Eirn knew, faintly, she probably shouldn't doze while Quinn was injured - while _she_ was supposed to be on duty, despite the excessive sunshine. It was difficult not to, though, and the shuttle ride took simultaneously far too long and not nearly as long as she'd expected, Vette glowering at both Sith all the while.

(She looked at her datapad's screen, as they travelled - tried to focus on it, tapping in the name that the Jedi had given up but not getting much further with any thought before losing track of where she'd been going with it entirely)

The cool, filtered air of the RecServ facility was absolute bliss, after the desert's unrelenting heat. Eirn was happy just to lean against a wall outside the medical bay, once Quinn was being seen to, and close her eyes - breathe deep, indulging her headache and trying to work out if she had the energy to move or not.

('Lieutenant,' someone she didn't recognise started to say - their voice as much concerned as it was anything, 'Is everything alright?')

Not really, but they were finished on this hellish planet, and once Quinn had been patched up, they could finally _leave_. Eirn didn't have the slightest idea where they were headed next, and barely cared; all she knew is that it wasn't Tatooine, and thus was all but guaranteed to be an improvement. 

(' _Lieutenant_ ,' they repeated, insistently. 'Are you alright?')

For a long moment, Eirn wondered if she should reply - dredge up the energy to tell whoever was fretting that she was fine, she just needed to rest her head a little while, before deciding that she'd actually rather just skip to the part where she got some rest.

(' _Lieutenant-!_ )

-

Waking up somewhere strange - waking with a start, jolted sharply out of sleep by some unknown presence - was never something that Eirnhaya had appreciated. She liked her sleeping quarters secure and her location known, and neither was apparently currently the case. Lifting her head, she squinted her eyes open - winced at the light, momentarily lost in exhausted confusion - before the feel of cool, filtered Imperial-outpost air and the faint smell of antiseptic reminded her of where she was - and more importantly, _why_.

She groaned, at that \- closed her eyes and slumped back against the pillow, wanting nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep and managing, for a few moments, to almost succeed. 

'Oh, hey. You're awake. Or a zombie. Do Sith have zombies? I mean, I guess they must do, 'cause you have them in horror vids, but I'm never sure if they're a Sith thing or just another thing you stole from somewhere else...' Vette, of course, was unmistakeable, even if discourse on the topic of Sith undead was something she'd never have expected to hear from the Twi'lek.

All that Eirn managed in response was another groan, though; before she slumped further into the bed, and wished she could somehow submerge herself in it entirely.

'Vette,' she started \- frowning to herself, before squinting her eyes back open and looking around. They still seemed to be in- well, some kind of Imperial base. _Hopefully_ the RecServ base, though Eirn supposed as long as it was friendly, it didn't matter too much.

'What time is it?' she added, eventually - wincing at the sound of her own voice.

'Half past breakfast,' Vette replied, apparently enjoying this. She was sat in an easy chair, chewing her way through something out of sight. 'Nurse said to let you sleep in. Which, you know. I ain't complainin'.'

Which didn't bode well in the slightest, but Eirn didn't want to think too hard about any of this just yet. 'Lord Quinn?' she just managed, eventually - trying to scrape together the energy to sit up, and managing to get as far as propping herself up on her elbows before that energy ran out.

'In a kolto tube. I like him better this way,' Vette replied, shrugging to herself.

All Eirn could think of at the words _kolto tube_ was one of the little canisters that attached to the spray in her medkit, and she immediately wanted to protest that Quinn wouldn't have fit into one of those even if reduced to his material components. It didn't help that her mind also volunteered that Vette would likely have preferred Quinn reduced to said material components, and it took her several tired moments of grappling with this thought to realise that Vette meant something rather larger.

'Okay,' Eirn just managed, eventually - running one hand through her hair, which felt as dry as everything else on this forsaken rock, and - not for the first time - Eirn missed her barracks in Sobrik, if only for the fact that Balmorra had both water and plumbing. 'Fine.'

-

The nurse, of course, gave her a lecture about dehydration before she was allowed to see a physician to be signed off - who gave her another lecture about dehydration, and a further one on heat exhaustion. Eirn just absorbed them silently as she tried to remember if she'd brought any of this up with Quinn, and chalked the whole affair up to another personal failure.

Quinn, when she checked on him, was still in kolto - and wasn't due to be brought out, according to the nurses, for several hours. Eirn took advantage of the time by using his name to get herself a sideroom she could work in - could hide in, once she'd collected water rations from the dispensing officer, and pretend that she was capable of passing herself off as normal. Vette, as had become customary in these places, stuck to her like glue - glaring all the while at anyone who stared at the two of them for too long, though Eirn didn't like to try and guess just what those glares were meant to convey. While Eirn prodded her reports, Vette provided her usual services of loud snacking and illegal background music, with occasional pauses when the holonet signal hiccupped unpredictably.

'Hey, El-tee,' Vette started, abruptly, 'What do you think we'll be doing after this? No more hunting around on this dump, right?'

It took Eirn a long time to get to the end of that sentence - and a further long moment to drag her thoughts away from Yonlach's hut, and onto the looming future.

'If I had to guess,' Eirn replied, slowly, 'I imagine that Lord Quinn will be tasked with hunting down this... Willsaam, and- neutralising her.'

Nomen Karr's secret weapon, something that had Baras burning his networks along with all proof they'd ever existed, and it wasn't even a fully-fledged Jedi. Eirn could only suppose that either there was more to this that she was unaware of; with Baras, she'd eventually worked out, this was usually safest to assume.

'You mean killing her.' Vette didn't sound as though she approved of the idea one bit.

'Probably,' Eirn replied, sighing to herself. She didn't expect Vette to understand the hatred that existed between Jedi and Sith; moreover, she suspected that Vette didn't care to, either, not least because of the way Sith treated the likes of her.

'And that doesn't bother you?' Vette was as judgemental as she was anything else - presumably she disapproved of this Jedi-murdering plan, though Eirn doubted that either Quinn or Baras would care.

Eirn looked to Vette, at that; wondered just how much of their likely tasks the Twi'lek had cottoned on to by herself, and what else she might know about the rest of Quinn's mission.

'She's a Jedi, Vette. She'd do the same thing to us, given half a chance. So no,' Eirn said, 'Not really.'

That was the correct answer, anyway - especially when one was sitting in the middle of an Imperial outpost on an already hostile world. The truth was something closer to an uneasiness with any plan she didn't know so many details of, accompanied by equal levels of uneasiness about the need for the war at all. Existing under Baras's thumb made proximity to the war unavoidable, though, and Eirn wasn't convinced that Quinn was much better than his master, in that regard.

'You mean you and Darth Sunburn.' Vette was apparently full of obstinance today, and Eirn couldn't help but reflect that it was probably just as well that- _Darth Sunburn_ was otherwise engaged.

'Well- you're not Sith,' Eirn started, slightly awkwardly. It was true, she realised, that Vette probably wasn't included in that _us_ , and she couldn't help but feel as though she'd misstepped.

'Neither're you,' Vette retorted, 'Unless that stick up your ass is actually a lightsaber.'

Which wasn't the most diplomatic way to put things, and Vette seemed to know it - stared defiantly as she said the words, and kept on staring in a way that almost seemed to invite retaliation. Eirn, though, was just taken by surprise - and then laughed, both at the insult and the fact she, of all people, had earned it.

' _What_.' Vette, of course, did not see the funny side, though Eirn didn't expect her to. 

'Sorry,' Eirn managed, once she'd gotten the laughter under control. 'No, Vette,' she added, 'I don't have a lightsaber up my ass. Or at all. But I doubt a Jedi would care.'

It hadn't stopped Yonlach from addressing her as _Sith_ , after all - and she had no reason to believe he wouldn't have treated her as one, had Quinn not emerged victorious. It was a thought that gnawed at her unpleasantly, every time it was revisited - the ease with which Yonlach had invaded her mind, and the contempt he'd held her in.

Vette, though, just harrumphed - before lapsing back into her semi-hostile silence, for which the background music was all louder.

-

Quinn's being brought out of kolto came and went with little ceremony, and even less issue - barring the normal ones that came with Sith under the influence of muscle relaxants. If nothing else, Eirn reflected, spending the night in kolto seemed to have done wonders for his sunburn, which had skipped the pink-and-peeling stage entirely; was still a touch pink, but had mostly settled into the tanned brown colour that pale-skinned humans went. 

The laundry list of his smaller injuries had reduced somewhat, as well - and the lightsaber burn, of course, had healed far beyond what Quinn could have managed on his own. It would still scar - his first, Eirn mused, though likely not his last. She was more than happy to leave the RecServ physicians to it, though - to let Quinn sleep off the lingering sedatives in his side ward, and attend to her own tasks until he summoned her.

'My lord,' she started - glancing over him, as she re-entered his room. He was sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed but looking more than a little frayed around the edges.

'Lieutenant. I am glad to see you're up.' Quinn managed, slowly - before adding, at her puzzled expression, 'The medics here informed me you were being treated for heat exhaustion. I- had assumed you would be- unavailable,' he added, slightly awkwardly.

_Oh._

'I- yes, my lord,' Eirn just managed - as embarrassed as she was anything else, first for having succumbed to the heat, and then for Quinn having found out. 'And- no. I'm- feeling much better, my lord,' she managed - if nothing else, hating the admission that she'd been ill at all.

'You didn't mention you were feeling unwell, Lieutenant. Why didn't you say anything?' Quinn was as critical as he was anything else - which definitely included _annoyed_ , even if it hadn't tipped over yet into _angry_.

'I-' Eirn started - unable to feel as though this wasn't a trap, somehow. Admit your weakness, and have it turned against you; deny it, and be forced to later admit you were caught lying.

'Your- orders were clear, my lord. You- wanted to push ahead with the mission. I- didn't want to- be the cause of a delay or- worse. And-' And, with the moods he'd been in, the last thing she'd wanted was to make them worse. Not, apparently, that he hadn't found cause to, anyway. 

'And,' she repeated, as Quinn continued to wait for her to finish speaking, 'I- didn't think that-' he would listen. 'It would- it was- bad enough to affect my performance. My lord. I'm- sorry, my lord.'

Quinn, though, just studied her as she spoke - as she made her excuses, and attempted to justify her behaviour. The longer it went on, though, the worse she felt about it, if only because of the way she knew she was digging her own grave.

'I see,' Quinn replied, eventually - far more evenly than Eirn had expected him to. 

'Lieutenant-' he started to add - and paused, apparently at Eirn's wince. 

It was a reaction she tried to keep to herself, but she had evidently failed at that entirely.It didn't help that her stomach was twisting itself up with nausea; nervousness and fear, as much as lingering illness. When he didn't add anything, though, it just got worse; the conviction that he was about to punish her - that, more than anything, she _deserved_ it.

'Never mind,' Quinn just sighed, though - glancing away from her, finally, his expression crumpling into further annoyance. 'We will talk about this later.'

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn just managed - not taking anything away from this other than she was in more trouble than Quinn cared to go into in public, and not sure that there was any way this could be misconstrued positively.

'For now-' Quinn added - powering on, before pausing to consider his words. 'I would prefer not to have spent so much time in kolto,' he mused, 'But I suppose there's nothing to be done about that. At least we no longer have pressing business on this rock,' he finished, a touch sourly.

Which Eirn couldn't help but feel was a criticism of _her_ , even if she'd had very little say in it. Protesting, though, would just be pointless - not to mention self-defeating.

'It was- the recommendation of the medics here, my lord,' she just replied - deflecting the blame elsewhere.'Given the nature of your injuries, it seemed the most appropriate action at the time.'

Quinn just made a dubious, noncommittal noise in response to that. 'Did you manage to find anything further on this Jedi?'

Eirn wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond to that - Yonlach and his- student? - were dead, and they had a crumb of information to go on in their search for Karr's apprentice. None of this should have been news to Quinn, though - not unless he was having trouble remembering more than just that morning.

'I've- been attempting to locate further information on the name that the Jedi gave us,' she added - an attempt, more than anything, to protest that she hadn't been sitting around doing nothing. 'But- I haven't had any luck so far, my lord. I have a search running on the Imperial databases at the moment. I will inform you,' she added, 'as soon as I hear anything.'

'I see,' Quinn managed, continuing to study her. 'Thank you, Lieutenant.'

He paused, at that; still studying her, a sensation that did not set Eirn at ease in the slightest. If anything, it discomfited her deeply; made her all the more certain that something was out of place or not up to regulation standard. 

'Since we have no pending business onworld,' Quinn continued, eventually, 'We will remain here one more night. You should make sure you get plenty of rest, Lieutenant. In the morning, we can take a shuttle back to Mos Ila. Tell Ms. Breev to meet us at the spaceport. I would like to speak to her before we depart.'

The first part, Eirn could only assume was for Quinn's own convenience; as for Breev- well, she'd been full of doom and gloom, the last time they'd spoken, and Eirn didn't doubt for a second that Quinn would relish her surprise at their survival.

'I'll- make the necessary arrangements, my lord,' Eirn replied - back in safe, familiar territory. 'If- you've no further instructions-?'

Quinn, when he looked at her, kept frowning; his expression critical of _something_ , and Eirn was having trouble believing that something wasn't her. 'No, Lieutenant. Not for now.'

She just bowed, then \- grateful, if nothing else, that she could go, and leave him to his kolto and sunburn.

-

_Well. That could have been a lot worse._ And then: _Is this really what I'm reduced to?_

-

Breev, of course, was full of cautious, fawning, admiration. To have ventured out past the forbidden pass, into the unending dune seas, and returned to tell the tale-

Well, she was melodramatic in a way that appealed to all of the worst qualities of Sith, and Eirn had to admit there was odd sort of romanticism in the way Breev threw herself into the near-superstitious theatrics of Sith. Still, it was impossible not to find it at least a little annoying, if only for the way it necessitated standing around in the Mos Ila spaceport, listening to Breev swan dramatically around her stage while Eirn's headache gnawed at her ability to remain upright like a starving tuk'ata that had stumbled across the bones of some lesser foe.

Departing Tatooine was not something Eirn mourned in the least, even if Dromund Kaas wasn't a destination she'd have picked for herself. Still, Quinn needed to recover from his injuries, and they had no leads on this- Willsaam, so Kaas it was.

Dromund Kaas, of course, meant Kaas City - meant, given as it was going to be the wet season for some weeks yet, rainstorms that Eirn knew she'd have traded her uniform for on Tatooine. There was some kind of irony in hating the rain so much while recovering from heat exhaustion, and Eirn was mostly just glad for the air conditioning that Quinn's apartment came with; for the plentiful water, and the notable lack of _sand_.

The apartment, too, meant a comfortable, predictable bed; meant being able to stand in Quinn's kitchen, smiling to herself as she lost herself in the scent of good caf and idle thoughts of ricecakes. It puzzled her, for a long moment, that Quinn would stock a half-decent blend in his apartment, but inflict Imperial standard issue on them aboard the ship - especially since he drank that same Imperial standard issue himself. It was a conundrum that didn't linger, though - became one that evaporated, lost among the raindrops.

-

It was a calm that couldn't last, of course, though Eirn had long known that calm was largely anathema to Sith. She was sitting in that same kitchen, half-reading logistical updates on her datapad and half-listening to the rain on the windows, when Quinn appeared to join her - still holding himself stiffly, of course, the bandages over his lightsaber burn invisible under his robes but still making the presence known by the way Quinn held himself. She'd have to check on them later, of course, and Quinn would hate every moment of it, but for now they were both spared that indignity.

'My lord,' Eirn started - sitting a little more to attention, and raking through her memory for things she was supposed to have done. Find information on that- Willsaam? The Imperial databases had come up clean, thus far, but- 'Was there something you needed, my lord?'

'Actually,' Quinn began, once he'd taken a seat across from her, 'I- wished to apologise, Lieutenant.'

Which wasn't what Eirn was expecting in the slightest, and for a moment - for several moments - she was quite certain that she'd misheard.

'I- have always thought of myself- have always tried to be, the kind of Sith who does not- who treats Imperial citizens fairly, and not- with disdain, or- dismissiveness. But- I have realised that, my actions of late have been- not ideal, and- you have suffered for them. So- I would like to- offer my apologies. And- a promise, that I will endeavour to be more- to be a- to do better.'

Eirn had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to respond to any of this - kept trying to grapple with the idea that _she_ was being apologised to. What Quinn was saying - what she _thought_ he was saying - it wasn't that she disagreed, but- he was Sith, it was his _right_ -

( _you're Sith, too_ , an objectionable part of her insisted, _and should be dragging this apology out from his broken corpse, not sitting there trying to wish away its existence-_ )

She realised, after a long moment, that he was expecting some kind of response - and that she was equal parts too proud to insist an apology wasn't necessary, and too annoyed to let this slide without further consequence.

'The circumstances have been- difficult, my lord-' Eirn started to force out - unpleasantly aware that criticising a Sith's behaviour to their face was an incredibly terrible idea, even if it meant agreeing with that same Sith.

'Perhaps,' Quinn interrupted, 'But that's hardly an excuse. Difficult circumstances or not, my harshness towards you has been- unjustified. You have performed exceptionally, under increasingly- difficult circumstances,' he managed, wincing at the repetition, 'and- that deserves recognition, not- recrimination.'

Well. That, Eirn supposed, was supposed to be that - though she knew that with Sith, this was rarely - if ever - the case. Part of her kept waiting for the other shoe to drop \- for whatever had prompted Quinn's sudden change of tune to either evaporate or reveal itself, neither possibility of which filled her with confidence.

'If- I may ask something, my lord-?' she started, though - a little hesitantly, a lot aware she was sidestepping his apology entirely, primarily because addressing it directly was the opposite of a good idea. 'What- I mean- not that- I don't appreciate your- concern, but- I'm just- curious- if you don't mind me asking,' she rambled, 'about- what's- prompted- this?'

Which, halting as it was, was still too confrontational a question for Eirn to feel entirely safe in asking it. For a moment, Quinn looked just as puzzled as she felt - like he didn't understand the question, and then failed to understand what it was she was looking for. 

'I've- been reflecting on your words, Lieutenant - what we discussed,' he added, 'during- our initial journey to Tatooine. And- those since,' he managed - not that they'd talked much, since that- well, 'discussion' was too generous a word for it. 

_Oh._

That itself made a sort of nervous fear wash over Eirn, that she couldn't suppress or redirect in time - and which she was certain, from his expression, that Quinn had picked up on.

'I- didn't mean that as a criticism, Lieutenant,' he added - sounding a little offended, with it. 'I recall mentioning that I value your opinion, and- I meant it, even if we do not agree on- certain issues. But- that is of little use if you are- unwilling to express yourself, for fear of- some retaliation or another. And- my actions of late have hardly been reassuring, in that vein.'

So, Eirn mused to herself, Quinn thought of her as a coward. Well, he wasn't the only one, though Eirn couldn't help but wish he'd found a way to call her such in a way that didn't dress the insult up as something else. 

'But- it is not the only issue that concerns me.' Quinn was still talking, and Eirn wasn't sure if she was more relieved or annoyed. 'You are- dedicated, and resourceful, and- without your assistance, recent events would likely have unfolded... quite differently. I am- not ungrateful,' he added, 'But- on reflection- my own actions have not exactly- demonstrated this. To tell you the truth,' he mused, 'Taking command of you- is the first time I've- had someone under me in such a capacity. Not that my inexperience is an excuse for poor leadership. I suppose,' he was rambling, and Eirn wished he would either get to the point or shut up, 'What I'm trying to say, is that I am- still learning, and that I am- grateful to have- someone like you with me.'

'That's- very kind of you to say, my lord,' Eirn started, slowly - half not-quite-sure that she'd understood his almost-compliment correctly, and half convinced she was going to regret entirely what was about to come next. 'But- I'm not the only one who's- contributed to your missions. Vette has, as well. My lord.'

Even if the Twi'lek had suggested killing the man and leaving his body for one of Tatooine's many predators. Eirn wasn't sure she could blame Vette for hating him so much, though \- and was certain that Quinn would in no way see things similarly.

Her statement, though, took Quinn by surprise - he just blinked, staring at her in a way that suggested he didn't get it, before his expression folded into mildly annoyed comprehension. 

'I- yes,' he admitted, though - 'you are- correct in that, Lieutenant.' He paused, at that - looked away from her again, his expression- not annoyed so much as irritated, though at what, Eirn didn't like to hazard any guesses.

'If- I may make a suggestion, my lord,' Eirn started - before pausing, not wanting to go any further if Quinn wasn't in the mood for her - likely predictable - suggestion.

Quinn, though, just looked at her - radiating disagreement and disapproval, but not instructing her to shut up, either. It was either a dare, or the most begrudged kind of permission to continue - but either way, she was too far to back away now, if only for her own pride's sake.

'I- know that you and Vette- don't- get on, my lord. But- I'm sure if you- showed her you value her contributions-' she might plot to murder him less. '-she'd be- less hostile.' Perhaps, and for a given value of 'less'; it would likely never be enough to satisfy Quinn, but Eirn doubted that the angry tension that existed between Quinn and Vette had done anything to improve matters.

Quinn apparently shared at least part of this opinion, even if he didn't voice it; his expression said enough on its own. 

'Especially if I were to remove the collar, Lieutenant?' He didn't seem amused by the direction this had taken, either, but- certainly didn't seem aggravated by it, as he had before, either. 

'Well- I think- that would help, my lord,' Eirn managed - stumbling over the words, even as she tried to force herself to stick by them. They were words she meant, but - regardless of Quinn's attempts at apologies now, the memories of last time they'd had a similar discussion kept snarling at her self-assurance like a poorly-trained akk pup.

Quinn, though, just sighed; glanced everywhere but her, for several long moments, before finally looking back to her - studying her, again, his yellowed eyes flickering over her in a way that only ever managed to unsettle her.

'I see,' he replied, eventually - even if Eirn doubted very much that he did. It was a doubt she kept to herself, though - for any number of reasons.

'Well,' he added, 'Thank you, for your- honesty, Lieutenant.' He didn't seem nearly as irritated as he had the last time they'd had this discussion, though Eirn knew better than to hope he might listen. Sith, after all, were Sith. 'If you have nothing further,' he added, 'I will leave you to your- work.'

Eirn didn't quite trust herself to speak, after that; just inclined her head as a silent, respectful, thankful bow - and was entirely unsurprised to see, when she looked back up, that he was already leaving.

-

It didn't take long for Eirn to realise that Quinn and Vette had crossed each other's paths, if for no other reason than his apartment was small, and their voices carried. A part of her immediately wanted to lock the door and pretend she hadn't heard anything; the part of her that immediately felt responsible for the argument insisted otherwise, and demanded that she follow through on that responsibility by intervening before it blossomed into something ugly. Ugli _er_.

They were arguing in what passed for Quinn's living room, serenaded by the technically-legal background music that accompanied Vette while they were in Imperial space - the sort of sugary pop that had - and still did, to her embarrassment - appealed to Eirn's inner fourteen-year-old girl. It was being ignored entirely, though, by all present, in favour of- well, business as usual.

'Vette,' Quinn was starting, already on the defensive, 'I am not-'

The two of them had barely spoken, in the time since Quinn's kolto dip, and Eirn had counted it as a blessing. A short-term blessing, that she knew would only make things worse in the long run, but a blessing all the same.

Vette just snorted, crossing her arms and glaring at Quinn defensively. 'If you're gonna give me another lecture about _behavin'_ -' she snapped - interrupting him, not that this ever made his moods any sweeter.

'I am _not_ ,' Quinn repeated, extremely sharply, 'And it would benefit you to let me finish speaking.'

Vette said nothing to that; just kept glaring, a hostile response all by itself. Only the slightest flicker in his gaze betrayed the fact that Quinn had spotted Eirn - other than that, his focus was all on the defiant Twi'lek in front of him. A part of Eirn admired and even envied Vette's ability to stand up to the Sith, even if it got her nowhere - especially, somehow, as it got her nowhere.

'Despite your continuing- _attitude_ ,' Quinn added, eventually - his gaze narrowing at Vette's annoyed snort, but not deterring him \- not yet, 'I have been reviewing your- contributions, and- given your general cooperation,' he continued - the words, if Eirn was honest, sounding more as though they were being dragged across a thorny floor than ones which rambled nervously - 'If lack of respect, I am willing to allow removal of the collar for the duration of our stay onworld.' He paused, still glaring - still reconsidering, Eirn was certain, even his words could not - in theory - be unsaid. 'Consider yourself on trial. If you can show you can cooperate without it, I may even be willing to make this change permanent.'

Vette just kept glaring, defensively; kept seeming to wait some complication or further condition, and kept not being reassured in the slightest when that kept not happening. It was a look that Eirn recognised; was magnified, in Vette's case, but was a general sentiment that she understood at least a little.

'So where's the catch?' Vette finally replied, after a long, defiant moment - not letting Quinn off the hook that easily, and far more abrupt than Eirn would have ever dared to be.

'There is no _catch_ ,' Quinn replied, becoming more visibly irritated by the moment. 'Other than the condition you are already aware of.'

'Perhaps,' Eirn started, before either one of them could make it any worse - and getting herself a sharp look from both Quinn and Vette, for her trouble. 'My lord, I should,' she added, wishing she'd said nothing, 'get my medkit, and I can- take care of any- injury, or-' she paused, at that - disliking the way she'd made herself the centre of both their attentions, even if it pulled Quinn's focus away from Vette.

Something in the air shifted; what, precisely, Eirn didn't like to try and guess, but with luck, it wasn't going to be something liable to catch fire.

Quinn just nodded sharply, though - glanced just as sharply to Vette, as though he was thinking of adding something further, before apparently changing his mind. 'Very well, Lieutenant. I will leave this in your hands,' he added - before abruptly offering her, of all things, the collar remote - which Eirn knew she'd need to unlock the thing, but still couldn't help but handle as though it were live nitroglycerine.

(Vette, Eirn couldn't not notice, was watching it change hands like a hawk; was watching _her_ , once she held it, with that same hostile glare she usually reserved for Quinn, and it was not a sensation she rejoiced in)

-

By the time Eirn returned, medkit in hand, Quinn had disappeared again - back to his sanctum, Eirn could only assume, though in truth she was grateful for his absence. The one thing Eirn wasn't expecting was the way that Vette visibly _sagged_ , the moment the collar was removed; for a moment, she was worried that the Twi'lek was unwell, or that she'd- injured Vette, somehow, especially when the other woman planted herself incredibly abruptly on the couch, the moment that she was able.

'Are- you alright?' Eirn started - stupidly, realising even as she said it that, no, nothing about this was alright, and stupidly asking if it was, would probably do nothing to improve matters.

'You have,' Vette replied, ' _No_ idea.'

No, Eirn reflected, she probably didn't; not in the way that Vette did, and it was an inexperience she was grateful for. Still, she had to do _something_ \- and, after placing the collar and its remote to one side, just took a seat next to Vette. If nothing else, the Twi'lek seemed as though she needed friendly company more than she needed kolto, and while Eirn had plenty of the latter, she wanted to also at least _attempt_ the former.

'I'm guessing this was your idea,' Vette added, looking back to Eirn - who, in turn, winced a little at the almost-accusation.

'I- didn't expect him to listen,' Eirn admitted, after a moment. Besides, it hardly felt like a victory; there was still the threat of the restoration of the status quo, if Vette did not _behave_ \- whatever that meant.

Vette snorted, at that - and then winced, before rubbing gingerly at the back of her neck. 'It's- really gone. I mean- it's right there,' she added, glaring at the collar, where Eirn had placed it to one side. 'But...'

'It's a start.' Which Eirn wasn't sure was the right thing to say, even as she said, it, but it still felt better than nothing at all.

'Yeah,' Vette replied, slightly absently. 'That.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading! <3


	14. Chapter 14

Life continued, in the days that followed, as it always did; awkwardly, whether it was Quinn's discomfort at having his wounds tended, or the subdued mood that Vette slumped into - which worried Eirn, if she was honest, more than when the Twi'lek snapped and sulked.

The collar, once it had been cleaned and sanitised, was something Eirn was more than happy to return to Quinn for keeping, not least because it represented the most repulsive kinds of power that lay available to Sith. The sharp, wary looks Vette had been giving her hadn't helped, if she was being honest, but it was a responsibility that Eirn didn't want, that Eirn never wanted, and not just because of the way it made others look at _her_.

Quinn, for his part, just gave her a puzzled looked, all the while - and that sensation, at the very edges of her awareness, of being probed for answers that she didn't want to give. He let the moment pass without speaking, though, and she let the topic drop, and it was - in all their awkward, formal, stilted pretences at conversation, never mentioned, a fact for which she was rather grateful.

-

There were distinct disadvantages to Quinn's apartment, of course. He found it so much easier to sneak up on her, for one thing - even if she wasn't entirely sure he did it on purpose. He never announced his presence, though, either - be it here or on his ship, and it always made Eirn feel as though at least a part of him enjoyed startling her.

Here, though, he didn't just catch her in the act of making caf or watching the rainfall on his windows, but - one morning - apparently made enough effort to find her during her morning PT, which she'd taken to doing in his training room. In truth, it was little more than a converted guest bedroom - presumably, Eirn could only conclude, because even Quinn realised he'd have little in the way of guests. It came with exercise mats, though, and a saber dummy which looked as if it had been on the receiving end of more than one kind of saber, and - usually - privacy, at least in the early hours of the morning.

He didn't even have the decency to announce himself, either - Eirn just happened to look up from her position after finishing a set and saw him- well, looming wasn't _quite_ the word, but he was definitely hovering in the doorway, looking at her in a way that she didn't want to assume was intent watching but did not exactly reassure her that it wasn't.

'Good morning, Lieutenant.' He was _smiling_ \- and Eirn had no idea why, and it did not set her at ease. 'I hope I'm not interrupting.'

'Not at all,' Eirn managed, between breaths, 'My lord. Forgive me. I- wasn't expecting you,' she added, as she scrambled to her feet - managing a small bow and realising, as she did so, that she'd completely lost track of where she'd been. 

'I seem to recall,' Quinn added, 'That you were instructed to take things easy, Lieutenant.'

'I am,' Eirn replied, immediately - 'Taking things easy, my lord. I'm- following a reduced routine. But- I- like to keep the habit up. My lord.'

If for no other reason that Eirn knew full well it was a habit she'd fall out of entirely, if she let herself. She'd never been a morning person, and morning PT was insult upon insult. It had, though, been one of the few excuses for failing to answer her holo in good time that Baras had ever accepted, and thus she had learned to grudgingly love it. Besides which, autopiloting her way through morning PT forced her body to wake up and gave her mind time to follow suit, which considering that Balmorra had steadfastly refused to sync its rotational period with Imperial Standard Time had been very much a necessity.

Quinn hadn't stopped smiling to himself the entire time, and the more he continued, the more unsettled Eirn felt. 'An admirable desire, Lieutenant. But you should take care not to push yourself too hard.'

'Yes. Of course, my lord,' Eirn managed - offering him another bow, and _why did you do that, Illte._ 'I will, my lord.'

There was a moment's awkward pause, at that - Eirn had nothing to say, and neither, apparently, did Quinn. As moments went, it wasn't the most unpleasant one she'd endured in his service, but that didn't mean she was sorry to see its end - quite the opposite, even if Quinn's smile finally faltered into a slightly uncomfortable grimace.

'Well, I will- leave you to it, Lieutenant,' Quinn finally managed - looking for a moment as though he wanted to add something further, before finally giving up.

'Thank you, my lord,' Eirn just replied, as he left - and she meant it, too.

-

That wasn't the end of it, naturally; Quinn caught up with her as she was finishing her breakfast, itself an indulgence of the fact that, planetside, he seemed much more inclined to stock his cupboards with real food instead of Imperial-standard-issue substitute. Actual pancakes, even if Eirn wasn't feeling motivated enough to cook them for herself, and had instead availed herself of Quinn's domestic droid; actual caf, made from actual cafbeans. 

'Lieutenant, good. I- was hoping to speak to you.' He seemed- _nervous_ , almost, a ridiculous assessment for any Sith, and which immediately put Eirn on edge.

'My lord?' Eirn just started, cautiously - not wanting to give Quinn excuse to find fault, but not sure she wanted to encourage him, either. 

'I wanted to apologise for- I did not intend to- intrude, earlier. I don't- mean to cause you discomfort, Lieutenant. Especially- not in the pursuit of your duties. I will- endeavour to leave you be, in the future.'

'It's-' Eirn started to say - started to try to force out, despite the parts of her that hated her for doing so. _It's alright._ It wasn't, though; it had unsettled her enough at the time, but the fact that Quinn had apparently been dwelling on it did nothing to improve matters.

'I- appreciate your- consideration, my lord,' she managed, eventually - caring what others thought, what _she_ thought, was an unusual quality in Sith, even it usually seemed only to exist in the places where they thought she could salve or stroke their egos. If Quinn fell into that category, it mostly seemed to only be in private things - the places he could tell himself he looked after his Imperial better than many Sith did theirs, rather than performances for the benefit of others. Not much of an improvement, but it beat having to make a spectacle of herself in public.

Quinn didn't look much reassured by this, though it was not a statement she had made to be reassuring; for a long moment, the part of Eirn that had been raised Imperial insisted that she walk it back, apologise for her own existence and do everything in her meagre power to reaffirm his ego. She didn't, though; her pride refused to allow her, and the part of her that had been raised Sith snarled that Quinn's excuse for an apology was the very least he owed her. In the end, it was Quinn who glanced away, though; continuing to squirm uncomfortably, before dropping the subject as entirely as he could.

'I was- I mean,' he started, that nervousness failing entirely to abate, 'the reason I was- looking for you, was- concerning the matter of your- saber training. I- was- wanting to ask if you were still- interested in- resuming your training.'

Eirn paused - taken somewhat by surprise by the question, before being put slightly on her guard by it. Now probably was not the best time to question him, but- 'If- you are still willing to teach me, my lord, yes.' 

It wasn't, after all, something they'd spoken about since- well, since before their trip out to Tatooine. They'd been rather busy, after all - and Quinn had been rather sour, for reasons that Eirn was still certain weren't limited to the planet's climate. For all that his mood had improved since their departure, Eirn had already learned enough about Quinn's moods to know that they seemed to be as volatile as any other Sith's - and that she was not permitted to be included in that particular definition of the word.

Quinn smiled a little at her reply, though - apparently genuinely, before adding, 'Good. I mean- I am, Lieutenant. I know that things have been- that _I_ have been- difficult, but- I would not have offered, if I did not intend to follow through.'

'I'm- grateful for the opportunity, my lord,' Eirn just replied - and she was, even if her cynicism kept providing its unwanted running commentary. 'It's- I know that- sparring in the way we did, the way I was taught, isn't- like facing the enemy. But-'

It was impossible not to smile; not just at the prospect of fighting again, but at the memories of having done so as a teenager, and for a moment, the impossible fantasies she'd nursed of thrashing her tormentors with a saber bubbled up from the depths of her memories. 'I- enjoyed it. A lot. And- it meant a lot to me,' she added - admitted, 'That- you're willing to let me continue.'

Even if, as she suspected, it was mostly himself that he was doing it for. Still, he was Sith - as was she, or so a part of her insisted, and Sith were nothing if not selfish - nor were they above twisting another Sith's selfishness for their own ends. It was a petty game, and she hated it, even as she played it.

Quinn actually smiled a little again at that, though. 'In that case, Lieutenant,' he replied, 'I shall endeavour to be a worthy teacher.' He paused at that, though; studied her for half a moment, before adding, 'I suppose, then, we should begin. I would propose,' he continued - what he'd been working up to, Eirn could only assume - 'That we start this afternoon, unless- you had any objections.'

Which rather took her by surprise - and suddenly made the whole affair a lot more _real_ , 

'Your injuries, my lord-' she started, though - he was still healing, even if the Force allowed him a speedier recovery than most.

Quinn just made a small, dismissive gesture at that. 'I can provide instruction without straining myself, Lieutenant. Fourteen-hundred hours?' he added - not letting her get away that easily, apparently.

'Very well, my lord,' Eirn replied, though - before smiling a little, again, and adding, 'I look forward to it.'

-

It was impossible, equally, not to be more than a little nervous; not to pick over all the ways that something could go wrong, to prepare a laundry list of all the reasons that everything about this was a terrible idea. Still, Eirn made certain to be prepared in good time - in her PT uniform, her hair tied back in its usual bun and her joints, this time, properly supported. Quinn was nowhere to be seen, and for a long moment, a part of her was convinced he'd changed his mind or made some other plan that she was supposed to have been aware of. Ignoring that part of her entirely was impossible, of course, but it was made easier by focusing on warmup stretches - and silenced entirely when Quinn appeared, still dressed as he had been that morning, all soft robes and awkwardly stiff stances.

'Lieutenant. Good, you're ready. Take a saber from the stand. Your preferred form is Shii-cho, yes?'

He was straight to business, as well - and Eirn felt her brow tendrils twitch in curiosity before she could stop them, though they were questions she'd have to worry on later.

'It's- the form I was taught,' Eirn replied - taking a saber, as instructed. 'Yes, my lord.'

_Preferred_ had nothing to do with it; most forms, Eirn was given to understand, relied on the Force for at least part of their repertoire, which- well, wasn't an option for her. Quinn, though, was already moving on - nodding to himself, small, twitching movements that weren't helping her own nervous tension in the slightest.

'Very well. Assume your opening stance, Lieutenant.'

(It was impossible not to feel more than a little self-conscious, especially given the way Quinn was studying her - ever critical, picking over her every movement, at least according to the conviction that her paranoias clung to)

'Shoulders back, Lieutenant. Better,' he added, as she adjusted her stance. 'When we fought,' he mused, 'You were thrown off balance too easily. Now, feet forward, and-'

They continued like this - Quinn inspecting her every move, correcting her movements and posture - the bad habits of irregular practice and a complete lack of training partner. It was equally impossible not to take at least some of it personally, even if Eirn swallowed it back, focusing on the drills and refusing to be distracted - much - by the constant feeling of _judgement_.

'Your- exercises,' Quinn half mused, 'You- do them daily, correct?'

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn replied - 'When we're not due out in the field, my lord.' On the days she was due to spend time traipsing around after Sith, Eirn preferred to save her energy for the aforementioned traipsing - though this was an addition she kept to herself.

'Good. I want you to incorporate the drills we've worked on. I'll make sure that equipment is available for you,' he added, before she could say anything, 'Both here, and on the ship.'

It was equal parts reassuring and terrifying that Quinn appeared to at least be taking this seriously; both in that he seemed to at least consider her worth teaching properly, and what that meant, exactly, for his expectations of her progress. 

'I will,' she replied though - and then, entirely genuinely, 'Thank you, my lord.'

He paused, at that - smiled, just the tiniest amount, even if it- _seemed_ , at least, to be just as genuine, in turn.

-

Quinn was a Sith of his word in that respect, at least; there was equipment available in his training room, the next morning, even if Eirn spent a long, uncertain moment simply holding the training saber in one hand; wondering, for the millionth time, if this was anything even remotely approaching a good idea. The wooden sabers always felt more _right_ in her hands than they had any right to, though - more so than blasters and vibroknives, even if the idea of trading them up for a lightsaber was as repellent as it was impossible.

_This is your birthright,_ part of her insisted. _Stop complaining, and embrace it._

It didn't help.

-

Vette's quiet, cautious slump hadn't abated, as time passed; the younger woman seemed more morose than anything else, though Eirn didn't like to hazard too many guesses as to why. The enforced semi-solitude of Quinn's apartment likely wasn't helping matters, though, which was why Eirn ended up proposing getting out of there.

'I was- intending to take a trip out to the spaceport, if- you wanted to get out of here. Get some fresh air,' Eirn suggested, slightly awkwardly - an offer, not an order, and- well, made in as genuine a way as was possible, between the likes of them.

Vette, though, just gave her a look that suggested she didn't trust where this was going in the slightest. 'Whadda you need _there_?' she asked - narrowing her eyes

'Nothing,' Eirn admitted, offering her a slightly weak smile. 'Other than a change of scenery.'

Half the truth, at least, and Eirn was fairly certain that Vette could have puzzled out the other half without too much trouble. Quinn, too, had he cared to, but as long as he was willing to allow her this fiction, she wasn't going to question it.

'Sure,' Vette relented, after half a moment - shrugging aimlessly, but not picking up her mood in the slightest. 'Gotta beat sitting around here.'

-

Vette's mood did pick up a little on the shuttle out, at least; they spent the trip talking aimlessly about nothing in particular, once they were past the city limits and had nothing out the viewports but kilometres of jungle. They talked about music and trashy drama vids and any number of pointlessly mundane subjects that Eirn suspected was as much Vette filling the space with chatter as anything else. Still, it was better than the oppressive silences that hung over them in the city, and Eirn wasn't uncertain it was almost entirely related to the company.

Eirn did have actual tasks to attend to aboard their ship, even if they were nothing that couldn't have been delegated to one of Baras's engineers - or the droid. Stock checks on the medical bay weren't the most thrilling ways to spend a day, but having company made it more bearable, and Eirn took full advantage of Vette's feigned low attention i, installing her motion detector in the depths of the medical cabinets while the Twi'lek had wandered off to the galley in search of snacks. The kolto totals weren't tallying, again; not as off as they'd been before, but still inaccurate, and Eirn knew that this time, she would be the one held responsible - unless, of course, she caught the culprit in the act.

They ate a late lunch at one of the eateries in the spaceport - a fast food joint that catered to Sith palates, most frequently frequented by their attendants and earning Eirn and Vette more than a few puzzled glances. Eirn ignored them all, though; merely watched in bemusement as Vette made short work of the spiciest items on the menu, all the while indulging in the comfort food of her student days - half missing the relative freedom that she'd had, and half not missing the city's ambience in the slightest.

'Let me guess,' Vette smirked, on catching Eirn's expression, 'Not as good as mom's home cooking?'

Eirn just snorted to that. 'The less said about my mother's cooking, the better.' Lira had done most of the cooking, when Eirn had been young - had been the one to show Eirn around the kitchen, to teach her how to cook - even if it wasn't for her mother's lack of trying. 'You know,' she added, an attempt to deflect the conversation elsewhere - glancing, for a moment, to the _esk'zwatz_ Vette was shovelling into her mouth, 'Most _Sith_ eat that with sour cream.'

'Yeah, well,' Vette retorted, 'I ain't Sith, am I.' _I'm better than they are_ , her expression added - along with a challenge for Eirn to contest this.

She let it go, though \- just rolled her eyes, and ate, and tried her best not to think about later.

-

Stock checks and equipment requisitions meant reports for Quinn, of course - meant having to brave his home sanctum, even as Eirn was entirely certain she did not want any indication of what he did in there all day. When they arrived back at the apartment, though, Quinn was not only not in said sanctum, but actually in his kitchen - sat opposite Eirn's usual spot at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of caf and scrolling through some report or another on his personal datapad, and glancing at her when she walked in, in a manner that suggested she was entirely expected.

'Lieutenant. I trust you had an enjoyable day?' There was no sarcasm or aggression in his tone - mild amusement, perhaps, though Eirn had no idea at what. He'd authorised the trip, after all - hadn't even argued with her assertion that it was purely business, even if she'd wondered at the time if he'd realised she had other motives.

It still made Eirn pause, though - wonder, for a moment, if it was a trap, or criticism - or, somehow, both.

'I was- working, my lord,' Eirn replied - protested, though he didn't argue, and even smiled a little to himself - that amusement, to which her protest was apparently some punchline.

'The stock report, my lord,' she added, before he could contradict her -transmitted to his own datapad, scribbled notes and all. 'Er. It's- provisional, but I've checked everything. And- starting preparing the requisition orders.'

Vette had rolled her eyes at the fact that Eirn had been half- _working_ on the flight back, needling Eirn's attempted work ethic as resolutely as she always did - even if the fact that Quinn was already inspecting her work was making Eirn relieved that she'd at least attempted.

'I see,' Quinn just replied - pulling up the report for himself, before scrolling through it. 'Sit down, Lieutenant,' he added - gesturing to her usual place.

Eirn had nothing to say to that and so she did - sitting awkwardly, half grateful Vette had disappeared further into the apartment, and half wanting nothing more than to do the same.

'Was there- something you wanted, my lord?' she managed, after half a moment - hating the immediately awkward silence as Quinn looked over her work and she fought the urge to flee.

'Your armour,' Quinn replied, looking up at her, 'Was damaged during the fighting, as I recall.'

Not what she'd been expecting, and it took Eirn by surprise that he even brought it up. Yes, it had been damaged - both by the Sand People and by the Jedi, though the latter had done more than the former. Still, it had survived, as had she, not least - she could only assume - because Quinn made for far more valuable a target to both.

'It's- been repaired, my lord. Your- factotum droid on the ship has repaired it to field standard. It- should be fine for- whenever we are next in the field.' Which, Eirn had to admit, she was hoping was later rather than sooner - for all that she loathed this planet. It beat being shot at, though - never mind Quinn's own recovery.

'Still,' Quinn mused, 'The fact it was damaged so badly at all concerns me. Particularly during the encounter with those Jedi.'

Eirn had been trying not to think about that too much - her own total uselessness in the fight, the ease with which Yonlach had robbed her of control of her body, the contempt in which he'd held her. The fact that even Quinn had suffered, and the spectre of what might have happened, had he failed-

_Not helpful, Illte. Focus._

'Standard issue body armour- doesn't offer much protection against lightsabers, my lord,' Eirn admitted - one reason she was more than happy to let Quinn take point when they were in the field. 'I- there are allowances for armouring that does. But I-'

'No _buts_ , Lieutenant,' Quinn replied, interrupting her. 'It's a certainty we'll be facing further Jedi, and- I don't want to risk you unnecessarily.' He paused, at that; glancing away from her, his expression flickering before it settled back into its normal detached scrutiny. 'You need to be adequately protected in order to do your job. And I would rather- not see you come to harm.'

Which was almost touching, though Eirn was certain it was a desire born of pragmatism more than anything.

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn just replied - not sure what to make of that, and deciding not to overanalyse it while in such close proximity to him. 'I'll- research my options, and- make a recommendation. But-'

'-Vette will also need suitable armouring,' Quinn mused, half to himself - beating her to it, and for a moment, Eirn was gripped by the conviction that he'd somehow picked up on her thoughts.

'With respect, my lord,' Eirn started, trying to push that idea away , 'I might be wrong, but- I- don't think Vette would be willing to wear Imperial army gear.' For reasons that Eirn hoped even Quinn would find obvious.

Quinn's frown darkened for a moment as he contemplated that - and Eirn wasn't convinced that Quinn wouldn't insist she had no choice - or insist, at that, that Vette had no _right_ to army equipment. She was not, after all, in the army - was barred from such by virtue of her species, as much as Eirn was equally certain that Vette would hardly be heartbroken by this.

'She will still need appropriate gear, Lieutenant,' Quinn replied - the focus of his scrutinising gaze, for now, on the middle distance. He paused, at that, adding, 'Still, my armourer in the city should be able to provide something appropriate.'

'I'll make an appointment for the morning, my lord. Will- you be needing anything else?' she added - hoping, at that, the answer was _no_.

-

Eirn could think of a lot of things she'd rather be doing than going armour shopping with Quinn and Vette, but Quinn was necessary to authorise the trip and Vette was necessary for- well, for obvious reasons. Eirn wasn't _necessary_ , strictly speaking, but Quinn seemed to have at least realised that Vette responded much better to her than she did to him. It didn't help that both of them kept glancing at her, in the moments when they thought she couldn't see them - constant reassurances she was being _judged_ , even if those judgements were kept silent.

Vette, of course, was less than thrilled that so much attention was focused on her, not least because of the assumptions that were made about her - or the fact that most of them were likely entirely correct. Still, for all her own melodrama, she relented and cooperated - if nothing else, seeing the value in being able to deprive Sith of wealth, to her own benefit. 

Eirn just tried not to draw attention to herself; stayed in her lord's shadow, silently grateful there was nobody there who felt like making an issue of a Sith in uniform, and - while Vette was being measured and fitted - quietly perused the modelled Sith formal wear, itself discreetly armoured - a necessity, given Sith ambition and promotion.

She might never have desired to wield a lightsaber, but Eirn had still grown up enamoured of the dresses and robes her mother occasionally wore, to say nothing of the costumes of Sith theatre. If there was only one attractive idea about the thought of becoming truly Sith, it was the idea that she could dress herself as she pleased, instead of being shackled to an Imperial uniform by the assumptions of others. 

'I'd have guessed you'd prefer dresses over robes, Lieutenant,' Quinn began - having apparently sidled up beside her, while Vette was undergoing her fitting. Eirn tried not to jump, and failed almost entirely; glanced at her lord, but didn't hold that glance for longer than necessary. 

'If I were to attend a formal event, my lord,' she replied - trying to keep her resentment to a minimum, and not succeeding, 'I would most likely be required to do so in uniform.'

Which implied a lot of things, and precluded a lot of others - not least of which were formal dress robes. 

'Surely,' Quinn replied, 'That would depend on the occasion, Lieutenant?'

'A little, my lord,' Eirn replied - primarily to avoid disagreeing with him. 'Truthfully,' she added \- wondering even as she said it if this was a wise idea, 'If nothing else, I- wouldn't want to be mistaken for a Sith.'

Quinn's expression was just bemused, at that; apparently it had never occurred to him that someone in her position might not want to have faulty assumptions made. 

'A pity,' Quinn just replied, after a moment, and Eirn wondered - entirely uncharitably - which one of them he was pitying, exactly. 

'Besides, my lord,' she just added, trying not to dwell on that, 'The nature of your work means we- probably wouldn't have time for- things like that, anyway.' For which a part of her was grateful; there was nothing quite so achingly dull as Imperial high society, and nothing so _repulsive_ as its Sith equivalent.

There wasn't much that Quinn could argue to that, even if his smile looked - for once - as forced as some of hers were. 'True enough, Lieutenant,' he replied - and almost looked _relieved_ when Vette reappeared.

-

There was a message waiting for her, on their return; the kind that heralded the kind of work that she always dreaded, if only because of its tendency to spawn more of its kind. Still, it was unavoidable - inevitable, in its own way, and Quinn's escape into his sanctum and Vette's disinterest in Imperial affairs meant that she at least had the peace and quiet required to focus. (To break that peace, but in her own way; with the sort of music that helped her concentration, instead of shattering it)

Still, she approached Quinn's sanctum with more than a little trepidation, if only because she hated little like the feeling of having interrupted him - the irritated glares, the pointed questions - and while she waited for him to answer the knock on his door, it was with the silent conviction that she should just have mailed him the report, and put on the caf, instead. When he did answer, there was no irritation in his glare - but there was definitely a glare, even if it softened.

'My lord. I- apologise for the interruption, but-' she paused, hesitating - waiting for him to prompt her to continue, or instruct her to go away.

'What is it, Lieutenant?' Quinn asked, after a moment - his expression its normal scrutinising self.

'While we were out this morning, I received an update from one of Lord Baras's people, concerning the Jedi we encountered on Tatooine. Specifically,' she added, 'The name they gave us - Jaesa Willsaam.'

That got Quinn's attention - focused it all the more on her, and she rather wished he wouldn't. It was never a pleasant feeling, having captured the attention of a Sith so fully, if only because it was usually prelude to them criticising some failing or another - that she wasn't always to blame for.

'Well?' he prompted, though - 'I assume you have more than that, Lieutenant?'

It was difficult not to glare defensively, but Eirn managed - bit back a sigh, and started. 'According to Lord Baras's information, references to a Jaesa Willsaam were found in documents supplied by one of his- _contacts_ on Alderaan. The information is a good- year or so out of date, but-'

'It's still a lead,' Quinn replied, frowning to himself. 'This contact,' he added, 'Are they still on Alderaan?'

'As far as I can tell,' Eirn replied, nodding to herself. 'Lord Baras's contact is a Duke, by the name of Kendoh Thul. If he can't tell us more himself,' she added, 'He should be able to point us to someone who can.'

Quinn nodded, thoughtfully - turning that over, for a moment. 'Very well. Then we depart for Alderaan as soon as possible. I want the ship supplied and ready to leave - use my authority if you're having any trouble. We can't afford for the Jedi to get ahead of us.'

'Yes, my lord,' Eirn replied, nodding - and then, 'There is- a complication, though, my lord. Alderaan is- currently in the middle of a civil war. We'd be- walking into a warzone.'

'Good,' Quinn replied, without missing a single beat. 'That should make it easier to move undetected. The last thing we need is the Jedi getting wind of this.' He paused at that, though - adding, 'Does the Empire have a position on this conflict?'

Eirn paused, for a moment, before picking up her datapad again - scrolling through her notes to the relevant pieces of information. 'Yes, my lord. The Empire has an alliance with House Thul, one of the three main contenders for the throne. The others are- House Ulgo, who refuse to ally with offworld powers. And- House Organa, who are allied with the Republic.'

Quinn, of course, was absorbing all this, though he at least had the decency to do so quietly. 

'But those aren't the only noble houses of Alderaan, surely?' he asked, after a moment - looking back to her, his brow furrowed in thought.

'No, my lord. The lesser Houses are mostly allied with one of those three. I- according to Intelligence, the three factions are of roughly equal size and strength. It's- a stalemate.' One which Eirn had no desire to become embroiled in, even as she knew that this was looking less unlikely by the moment.

'Then it seems a reasonable assumption,' Quinn mused, 'That Miss Willsaam came from House Organa, or one of its vassals, which is how she ended up with the Jedi to begin with.'

'...If she was from House Thul,' Eirn replied, slowly, 'Then- she'd have been turned over to the Sith.'

'Precisely.' Quinn was smiling a little to himself, though Eirn wasn't sure if it was at her deduction, or his own. The latter seemed more likely; that, or he was nursing some fantasy that Baras's thorn was his own apprentice.

'Or- House Ulgo, my lord. They also stand opposed to House Thul,' Eirn added, frowning a little as she reviewed her notes.

'I thought you said that they refused offworld alliances?' Quinn's tone was more curious than critical, though it was impossible not to feel at least a little criticised.

'They do, my lord,' Eirn replied - glancing up from her datapad. 'But- Jedi are wily creatures, my lord.'

Quinn, to her surprise, just nodded to himself. 'True enough. Well,' he mused, 'Regardless, it would seem that we will be forced to deal with hostile forces if we are to achieve our objectives.'

'If- I may ask, my lord,' Eirn began, 'What- is our objective, precisely?' 

Nobody had bothered to sit her down and explain it, after all, and while being left out of the loop by Baras was something that Eirn had decided she generally preferred, with Quinn, it was rather different. If nothing else, serving Quinn put her infinitely closer to the sharp end of the conflict than serving Baras ever had, and while this wasn't a position she was thrilled by, it wasn't one that afforded her the luxury of ignorance, either.

'Our ultimate goal,' Quinn replied, 'Is to flush out and remove Nomen Karr's padawan, in order to neutralise the threat she presents - not just to Lord Baras,' he added, 'But to the Empire as a whole.'

Which was melodramatic, even by Baras's standards, and Eirn's bemusement had made it into her expression before she could stop it - where it settled, like clumps of wet snow, and refused, obstinately, to move.

'Is there a problem, Lieutenant?' Quinn added - his expression more amused than anything, though it was impossible not to read his words as a challenge. Obviously he'd picked up her bemusement, though Eirn had to wonder if there was something more.

'Well,' she started, quite certain this was ill-advised, but- 'With respect, my lord- surely one padawan hardly poses that much of a threat? To the _whole_ Empire?'

Quinn snorted. 'If only that were so, Lieutenant. This- padawan,' he mused, 'Seems to have some kind of- uncanny ability to determine one's allegiances. We only became aware of her existence after the Jedi compromised a previously secure asset belonging to Lord Baras.' He paused, before adding- 'I'm sure we've already discussed this, Lieutenant. Your concerns about- Agent Dellocon.'

'That was the Jedi informant,' Eirn replied, after a moment. 'This... padawan we're chasing.'

'Precisely,' Quinn repeated, nodding to himself. 'Agent Dellocon and Commander Rylon were simply two of her more recent exposures.'

'I see,' Eirn replied \- that explained a number of things, including Dellocon's conviction he'd been secure. Still, Baras had never been the type to run even the slightest risk of his schemes being exposed - his Imperials, Eirn knew, were all considered expendable, and she wasn't certain that his Sith were much better off.

'In that case, my lord,' she added, 'I sincerely hope that this lead works out.' And not simply because it would somehow be her fault if it didn't - a thought that prompted a sigh, before she could stuff it back.

Quinn, though, didn't take her sigh poorly - if anything, he offered her a smile that was almost trying to be reassuring. 'Have faith, Lieutenant. The Force acts with us on this.'

Ah, yes, the Force. The one thing that Eirn did _not_ trust, and Quinn seemed to think it was on anyone's side but its own.

'Your confidence is-' Worrying. 'Inspiring, my lord,' Eirn just replied - forcing a smile, and wondering just how much she was going to regret this.

-

'Alderaan? Seriously?' Vette, of course, could be counted on to bring her own unique brand of dread.

'Seriously,' Eirn replied - packing her things into her kit bag, and wishing that Vette would show some activity that wasn't lying on an unmade bed, refusing to display any sign of so much as thinking about getting her things together. 

'You've been before?' she added, though - trying not to let the conversation die, if nothing else.

'No,' Vette harrumphed, glaring at the ceiling. 'Too many stuffy nobs who think they're too good for everyone else.'

'Look on the bright side,' Eirn replied, 'Perhaps this Jedi will turn out to be a stuffy noble, and you'll get to help rid the galaxy of one.'

'Just when I start to forget you're a Sith,' Vette retorted, 'You go and make murdering people sound like _fun_.'

Eirn couldn't help but smirk a little at that, even if she wasn't sure she could pin down the reason why. Even if she wasn't sure, at that, she _wanted_ to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alderaan isn't going to know what hit it...
> 
> sorry for the delay on this folks. thank you all for reading!! ♥ as always, any and all feedback is appreciated. ♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> how did i get here i am not good with computer
> 
> • i write quinn younger than he is in canon anyway because fuck the canon timeline, that's why but here he's aged down again. like mid twenties at the start. he's a baby. still older than eirn, but a baby.  
> • yea this means the empire lost at druckenwell. if i was being super serious about this au there'd be ten chapters exploring the economic ramifications of this on an obscure outer rim planet but lbr that's not why i'm writing this  
> • yea it will be roughly following the SW story but there will be changes. eirn is not tactical savant. quinn is not one hundred and sixty centimetres of tactlessness. baras is still an unrelenting douchecanoe but that's a universal constant.  
> • i don't know when, if ever, this will be updated. it's my id fic/guilty pleasure  
> • however the likelihood of it being updated goes way up if yall comment  
> • feedback of absolutely any kind is always appreciated!  
> • happy life day


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